UNIVGRSITY  Of  CALIFORNIA 
LIBRARY 


THE  RETURN  OF 
ODYSSEUS 


A  GREEK  CHORIC  PLAY 

IN  TWO  CONTINUOUS  ACTS  SEPARATED  BY 
AN  INTERLUDE  OF  VISIONS 


By  MARION  MILLS  MILLER 

Litt.   D.  (Princeton) 

Editor  of  "The  Classics— Greek  and  Latin";  Translator  of 
"The  Sicilian  Idyls  of  Theocritus,"  etc. 


THE   STRATFORD    COMPANY     :      BOSTON 
1917 


Copyright  1917  by  THE  STRATFORD  COMPANY 


Dramatic  rights  reserved  by  the  author 

MARION    MILLS    MILLER 
Carnegie  Hall,  New  York,  N.  Y. 


IS 


117 


Preface 

THIS  play,  while  suited  to  the  stage  of  the  regular 
theater,  is  especially  intended  for  performance 
in  the  open  air,  particularly  within  the  stadia  of  our 
universities. 

All  but  two  of  the  speaking  characters  being 
women,  it  is  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  requirements  of 
women's  schools  and  colleges. 

Unlike  the  plots  of  the  original  Greek  dramas,  the 
story  of  the  play  is  familiar  to  all  persons  possessing 
a  good  education  in  English  alone,  and  the  passions 
depicted,  patriotism  and  comradeship,  and  love  in  all 
its  natural  aspects  —  between  husband  and  wife, 
parent  and  child,  mistress  and  maid,  as  well  as  be 
tween  man  and  woman  —  appeal  no  less  to  the  modern 
than  to  the  ancient  mind.  Motives  such  as  incest  and 
matricide,  which  were  favorites  with  the  Greek  popu 
lace,  but  which  are  abhorrent  to  people  of  the  present 
day,  are  entirely  omitted,  and  the  doctrines  of  the 
hybris,  pride,  and  of  nemesis,  its  punishment,  while 
these  have  been  introduced  as  the  essential  religious 
elements  of  Greek  drama,  are  paraphrased,  as  it  were, 
so  that  the  ancient  theological  aspect  of  the  "sin"  is 
obliterated  in  the  universal  ethical  aspect.  For 
dramatic  as  well  as  moral  reasons  this  treatment  may 
be  justified.  The  purpose  of  the  stage,  says  Shake 
speare,  is  to  show  '  l  the  very  age  and  body  of  the  time 
his  form  and  pressure,"  not  to  galvanize  an  ancient 

[Si] 

395911 


iv  THE   RETURN   OF   ODYSSEUS 

mummy  to  a  mockery  of  life  by  a  mechanical  sub 
stitute  for  a  spirit  which,  happily  for  good  art  and 
good  taste,  as  well  as  good  morals,  has  forever  fled. 

In  fine,  the  present  play  is  written  not  for  archeo- 
logical  scholars  but  for  average  Americans  —  people 
who  do  not  pretend  to  like  what  is  alien  to  their  na 
tures  in  order  to  acquire  a  reputation  for  academic 
culture,  and  who,  if  they  are  to  catch  any  measure  of 
the  Greek  spirit,  must  mark  its  rhythm  by  the  pulse  of 
the  red  blood  bounding  in  their  own  veins. 

The  play  is  open,  from  the  scholar's  standpoint,  to 
the  charge  of  anachronism,  both  constructive  and 
specific,  but  this,  it  is  maintained,  is  of  form  and  fact 
rather  than  of  spirit.  Sappho,  Theocritus,  the  Greek 
epigrammatists,  and  even  the  Latin  Ovid,  have  been 
sources  of  phrase  and  legend,  as  well  as  Homer, 
although  the  action  depicted  is  pre-Homeric.  Even 
Homer  himself  is  represented  as  a  contemporary  of 
Odysseus,  the  author's  justification  being  the  artistic 
if  not  the  scholarly  one  that  in  " poetic  justice"  the 
blind  bard  ought  to  have  come  into  personal  contact 
with  the  heroes  whom  he  depicted  and  whom  he  robbed 
of  their  proper  laurels  by  ascribing  their  deeds  to  the 
gods. 

Feminism,  the  spirit  of  woman,  is  presented  as  a 
dramatic  motive,  with  the  justification  that  it  was 
rampant  in  ancient  Greece,  as  witness  the  comedy  of 
Aristophanes  called  "The  Ecclesiazusae, "  or  "The 
Women  in  Congress,"  a  play  which  in  a  modern 
presentation  that  would  paraphrase  its  timely  wit 
might  be  very  properly  denominated  "The  Suf 
fragettes.  ' ' 


PREFACE  v 

In  one  lyric  a  modern  invention  (unless  we  recog 
nize  as  its  prototype  the  artificial  wings  of  Daedalus), 
the  aeroplane,  is  mentioned  as  a  symbol  of  man's 
domination  of  the  air,  which  was  deemed  in  ancient 
times  no  less  than  in  the  present  day  a  human  right 
and  ultimate  achievement. 

In  short,  the  essential  purpose  of  THE  RETURN 
OF  ODYSSEUS  has  been  to  portray  those  phases  of 
ancient  life  and  thought  and  spirit  which  are  also 
modern,  doing  so  without  regard  to  any  special  classic 
era,  and  employing  any  means  of  representation 
which  universally  obtains  in  order  that  these  subjects 
may  be  comprehended  by  the  modern  non-scholastic 
mind. 

Because  of  dramatic  requirements  certain  liberties 
have  been  taken  with  the  classic  story  which  forms 
the  plot  of  the  play.  For  example,  the  slaughter  of 
the  suitors  takes  place  in  the  Banquet  Hall,  and  this 
did  not  permit  of  the  preceding  open-air  scene  de 
scribed  by  Homer,  where  Odysseus  wins  the  contest 
in  archery. 

Wherever  practicable,  however,  the  narrative  of 
Homer  has  been  faithfully  followed.  To  this  end, 
with  a  few  adaptations  necessary  to  make  artistic 
compositions,  the  descriptions  of  the  "visions"  of 
Penelope  (the  various  adventures  of  Odysseus  on  his 
way  home  from  Troy)  are  given  in  the  words  of  the 
Odyssey  as  rendered  in  that  best  of  all  English 
translations,  the  version  of  Butcher  and  Lang,  which, 
being  in  Biblical  prose,  imparts  to  the  English  ear 
that  effect  of  sacred  associations  which  the  original 
possessed  for  the  Homer-reverencing  Greek. 


vi  THE   RETURN   OF   ODYSSEUS 

The  artistic  spirit  of  the  play  proper  is  that  of 
Aristophanes  rather  than  of  the  Greek  tragedians, 
especially  in  the  employment  of  the  chorus  for 
spectacular  and  aesthetic  effects.  Nevertheless  none 
of  the  Greek  dramatic  unities  as  observed  by  these 
tragedians  is  violated.  The  scene  is  the  same  through 
out,  and  the  action  is  continuous,  taking  place  within 
less  than  the  time  of  one  day.  The  far  more  im 
portant  unities  of  the  modern,  or,  better,  the  universal, 
stage,  are  also  observed.  The  actors  are  persons  who 
would  naturally  be  present,  and  their  exits  and 
entrances  are  appropriately  timed;  the  " properties ' ' 
are  few  and  simple  and  ready  at  hand,  and  the 
theatrical  devices  —  visions,  statue-poses,  and  cho 
ruses  —  are  far  better  suited  to  the  occasion  of  their 
introduction  than  is  usually  the  case  in  modern  light 
opera,  to  which  the  play  is  aesthetically  related. 

The  "  visions, "  while  with  a  few  exceptions  they 
would  be  more  artistically,  though  very  incompletely, 
presented  in  the  form  of  tableaus  or  ' '  living  pictures, ' ' 
may  also  be  shown  by  the  cinematograph,  and  thus 
reduce  the  number  of  the  cast. 

The  play  is  frankly  English  in  verse  form,  for  the 
author,  who  has  metrically  translated  several  Greek 
poets,  believes  that  any  attempt  to  reproduce  in  a 
modern  tongue  the  classic  measures  not  only  must  fall 
far  short  of  the  original  in  artistic  effect,  but  must 
also  violate  the  principles  of  rhythm  native  to  the 
languages  of  the  present  day.  Thus  to  write 
" Sapphics"  or  Homeric  hexameters  in  English,  one 
must  substitute  for  accent  (the  native,  essential  ele 
ment  of  our  prosody)  the  element  of  classic  quantity, 


PREFACE  vii 

which  is  worse  than  exotic,  being  utterly  extinct  and 
unrevivable  as  a  practical  metrical  principle.  The 
best  that  can  be  done  in  true  English  rhythmic  transla 
tion  is  to  produce,  not  the  identical  aesthetic  effect  of 
the  original  Greek  measures,  but  an  equivalent  effect. 
Thus  Chapman,  an  English  dramatist  of  the  intensely 
dramatic  Elizabethan  age,  translated  Homer  dramat 
ically,  even  theatrically,  for  example,  swelling  the 
simple  phrase,  so  thrilling  to  the  reverential  Greek, 
"When  holy  Troy  shall  fall,"  to  "When  holy  Troy 
shall  shed  her  towers  for  tears  of  overthrow" —  a 
grandiose  figure  of  speech  perfectly  suited  to  the 
boundless  imagination  of  Chapman's  time,  and,  in 
spite  of  its  recognized  incongruity,  appealing  with  a 
measure  of  its  former  strength  to  the  more  controlled 
artistic  sense  of  the  present  day. 

Now  to  impart  a  modern  equivalent  effect  of  Greek 
poetry  the  blank  verse  usually  employed  by  English 
translators  and  imitators  is,  except  in  rare  passages, 
singularly  inadequate,  since,  while  the  Greeks  wrote 
in  what  technically  may  be  called  blank  verse,  their 
lines  throughout  were  rich  in  tone-color,  or  sound 
symbolism,  which  in  the  evolution  of  phonetic  art  has 
received  in  English  poetry  the  culminating  addition 
of  end  rime.  Rimed  verse,  especially  in  choruses,  gives 
a  nearer  equivalent  than  English  blank  verse  for  the 
lyric  effect  of  the  Greek  original  which  is  necessarily 
lost  in  translation  and  imitation.  Swinburne's 
"Atalanta  in  Calydon,"  vibrant  with  sensuous 
symbolism  of  sound  and  idea,  reproduces  the  animated 
effect  of  Greek  poetry  where  the  "Merope"  of 
Matthew  Arnold,  though  severely  classic  in  form,  im- 


viii  THE   RETURN   OF   ODYSSEUS 

parts  an  impression  of  corpse-like  coldness.  The 
recent  revival  of  interest  in  ancient  Greek  tragedies 
is  largely  due  to  the  fact  that  these  are  presented  in 
the  excellent  rimed  versions  of  Dr.  Gilbert  Murray. 

The  verse  of  the  present  play,  while  rife  in  rime, 
is  otherwise  intentionally  "flat"  in  tone-color,  espe 
cially  in  the  more  dramatic  scenes,  since  the  action 
has  been  held  by  the  author  to  be  more  important 
than  poetic  form,  and  the  "reader's  attention"  has 
therefore  been  concentrated  upon  it  in  obedience  to 
the  dictum  of  Herbert  Spencer.  In  every  respect  lan 
guage  has  been  subordinated  to  that  expression  of 
ideas  which  is  produced  by  emotional  gesture  and 
facial  expression.  The  text  is  thus  virtually  a  libretto 
of  the  dance,  taking  the  latter  term  in  the  inclusive 
sense  of  all  choric  movements. 

The  action  of  the  play,  in  its  aesthetic  aspect,  is 
Hellenic  in  a  modified  form,  being  a  physical  inter 
pretation  of  the  Greek  spirit  according  to  the  system 
of  Frangois  Delsarte,  which,  because  of  the  non-es 
sential  mystical  claims  made  for  it  by  its  originator, 
and  the  unintelligent  application  of  it  by  many  of  his 
disciples,  has  fallen  somewhat  into  disrepute.  Never 
theless  this  is  capable  of  high  development,  and  seems 
to  be  the  only  system  of  bodily  expression  of  emotion 
by  which  the  puerile  ballet  may  be  exalted  into  a 
really  high  art-form.  At  least  it  is  a  coherent  phi 
losophy  of  expression,  and  of  this  the  choric  art  is 
sadly  in  need.  For  example,  few  dancers  understand, 
except  instinctively,  the  natural  relation  between 
motion  and  pose,  namely,  that  the  latter  should  never 
stand  by  itself,  but  always  be  preceded  by  action  — 


PREFACE  ix 

the  more  energetic  the  better.  I  have  seen  an  enter 
tainment  in  which  a  woman,  who  had  previously 
demonstrated  her  ability  as  a  dancer  by  most  artistic 
renditions  of  the  violent  movements  of  a  nautch-girl, 
appeared  in  a  succession  of  poses  with  the  least  pos 
sible  action  between  them.  The  entertainment  was 
naturally  a  failure,  and  the  shallow  critics  explained 
this  by  saying  that  the  public  was  * '  unappreciative 
of  high  art,"  desiring  only  dancing  of  the  violent, 
" vulgar"  sort. 

The  so-called  choruses  of  the  present  play  are 
essentially  ballets,  full  of  action,  entertaining  in  itself, 
but,  it  is  hoped,  much  more  highly  pleasing  because 
of  the  symbolism  involved.  The  poses,  which  in  every 
instance  are  cases  of  arrested  motion,  have  the  same 
character.  Since  the  latter  are  reproductions  of 
classic  statues  which  are  meaningless  to  many  people 
because  these  do  not  possess  sufficient  imagination  to 
conceive  of  the  action  with  its  underlying  thought  and 
emotion  leading  up  to  the  pose  presented,  the  play, 
it  is  hoped  by  the  author,  will  be  recognized  by 
teachers  to  possess  interpretative  value  in  the  field  of 
art  education. 

Pictures  of  the  statues  referred  to  in  the  matter  of 
poses  are  all  to  be  found  in  Bulfinch's  "Age  of 
Fable,"  and  most  of  them  in  Harper's  "Classical 
Dictionary,"  not  to  speak  of  specific  works  on  classi 
cal  art  in  the  reference  department  of  every  well 
equipped  public  library. 


THE   RETURN   OF   ODYSSEUS 


Persons  of  the  Play 


PRINCIPAL  CHARACTERS 

ODYSSEUS     .         .         .  King  of  Ithaca 

TELEMACHUS    .        .  .       Son  of  Odysseus 

PHEMIUS     ...  A  blind  minstrel 

PENELOPE         .         .  .       Queen  of  Odysseus 

EURYCLEIA  .         .         .  Nurse  of  Odysseus 

EURYNOME        .         .  .       The  house-mistress 

MAIDENS  OF  PENELOPE  (THE  CHORUS) 

ADRASTE    Leader  DAPHNE 

ALCANDRE  DYMAS 

ALCIPPE  EURYMEDUSA 

ARETE  IANTHE 

CHLORIS  PERSE 

CLYTIE  PHYLO 

and  others,  since  the  number  of  the  Chorus  may  be 
indefinitely  extended. 

IN  PANTOMIME 

ATHENE,   the   goddess,  as   Iphihime,  sister   of 
Penelope. 

MORPHEUS,  as  precentor  of  Penelope's  dream. 
[3] 


4         THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 


IN  VISIONS 

ODYSSEUS 


Companions  of  Odysseus 

EURYLOCHUS 
POLITES 

THE  LOTUS  EATERS 

POLYPHEMUS,  the  Cyclops. 
CIRCE,  the  enchantress. 
HERMES,  herald  of  the  gods. 

Souls  in  Hades 
TEIRESIAS,  the  Theban  seer. 
ANTICLEIA,  mother  of  Odysseus. 

THE   SIRENS 

CALYPSO,  the  goddess  of  the  isle  Ortygia. 
INO,  a  sea-nymph. 
NAUSICAA,  princess  of  Phaeacia. 
ALCINOUS,  king  of  Phaeacia. 
ATHENE,  patron  goddess  of  Odysseus. 
ARGOS,  the  old  hound  of  Odysseus. 

SAILORS,      CYCLOPES,       SPIRITS,      MAIDENS,      and 
COURTIERS. 


PERSONS  OF  THE  PLAY        5 

SCENE 

The  outer  court  of  the  Palace  of  Odysseus  in  Ithaca, 
supposed  to  be  on  an  elevation  facing  the  sea.  High 
steps  lead  up  to  the  pillared  porch  of  the  palace.  Be 
tween  the  two  central  pillars  are  seen  the  open  doors, 
leading  to  the  central  Banquet  Hall.  On  the  right  of 
the  porch  is  the  entrance  to  the  Chamber  of  Penelope. 
On  the  left  of  the  porch  is  the  entrance  to  the  Armory. 
In  the  center  of  the  court  is  an  altar,  which  serves  not 
only  for  worship  of  the  gods,  but  also  as  a  support  for 
the  actors  in  various  statue-poses. 

TIME 

The  evening  of  one  day,  and  the  morning  of  the  next. 


Argument 

THE  plot  presented  is  the  denouement  of  the 
Odyssey  of  Homer,  the  return  of  Odysseus  to 
Ithaca  after  an  absence  of  twenty  years,  the  last  ten 
of  which  he  has  spent  in  wandering  homeward  after 
the  fall  of  Troy.  He  is  supposed  to  be  dead,  and 
Penelope,  his  queen,  is  sought  in  marriage  by  a  horde 
of  princely  suitors  who  fill  her  palace  and  waste  her 
substance.  She  has  thus  far  contrived  to  delay  the 
choice  of  a  husband  forced  on  her,  by  weaving  by  day 
a  shroud  for  old  Laertes,  Odysseus'  father,  who  is  still 
living,  and  unweaving  it  by  night.  This  subterfuge 
is  no  longer  available,  and  her  decision  must  be  made 
on  the  morrow.  She  appears  on  the  scene,  interrupt 
ing  the  song  of  Phemius,  the  blind  minstrel,  telling  of 
the  " pitiful  return  of  the  Achaeans  from  Troy." 
Eurycleia,  the  old  nurse  of  Odysseus,  enters  from  the 
Banquet  Hall,  and  the  Maidens  of  Penelope  from  the 
side  doors.  They  perform  the  choruses,  "The  Pass 
age  of  the  Banquet  Hall,"  descriptive  of  the  sottish- 
ness  of  the  suitors,  and  "The  Weaving,"  descriptive 
of  Penelope  'a  labors.  Penelope  dismisses  her  maidens, 
and  beseeches  the  gods  to  give  her  assurance  whether 
Odysseus  be  alive  or  dead.  This  they  grant  in  the 
form  of  visions  of  him  in  his  wanderings,  the  last 
visions  showing  him  landed  in  the  guise  of  a  beggar 
on  the  shore  of  Ithaca. 

[7] 


8  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

She  awakens  comforted  and  prepares  for  the  home 
coming  of  her  lord.  Taking  Eurycleia,  the  old  nurse 
of  Odysseus,  into  her  confidence,  she  bids  her  divert 
the  maidens  with  ancient  stories  calculated  to  imbue 
them  with  patriotism,  while  she  gets  ready  arms  and 
armor  for  Odysseus.  Led  by  Eurycleia,  the  maidens 
perform  the  chorus,  "The  Hunting  of  the  Boar,"  in 
which  is  recounted  a  youthful  exploit  of  Odysseus  in 
which  he  came  near  to  losing  his  life,  being  wounded 
by  an  infuriated  boar.  Eurycleia  makes  the  story 
symbolic  of  the  ravage  of  Ithaca  by  the  suitors,  and 
the  coming  rescue  by  Odysseus;  and  Penelope,  return 
ing,  inspires  the  maidens  with  loyal  zeal  by  showing 
them  what  part  women  can  play  in  crises,  such  as 
the  one  approaching,  by  giving  spiritual  assistance 
to  the  men. 

As  their  patriotic  fervor  is  at  its  height,  Telemachus 
enters  from  the  Banquet  Hall  with  Odysseus,  who  is 
disguised  in  a  beggar's  cloak.  Penelope,  instructed 
by  the  vision,  recognizes  him,  and  impulsively  starts 
toward  him  with  a  cry  on  her  lips,  but,  being  res 
trained  by  his  look  of  warning,  artfully  applies  her 
actions  and  words  to  Telemachus.  The  prince  re 
proves  her,  directing  her  to  attend  to  the  needs  of  the 
guest,  whom  he  represents  to  be  a  companion  of 
Odysseus.  Odysseus  refuses  Penelope's  attentions, 
but  accepts  those  of  Eurycleia,  and  departs  with  the 
old  nurse  to  the  queen's  chamber. 

Telemachus  is  brooding  over  some  insult  that  has 
happened  in  the  Banquet  Hall,  and,  to  lift  up  his 
spirit,  Penelope  orders  her  maidens  to  perform  a 
choric  dance  representing  the  foot-race  of  Hippo- 


ARGUMENT  9 

menes  and  Atalanta,  the  part  of  the  former  being 
taken  by  Telemachus,  and  the  part  of  the  latter  by  one 
of  the  maidens.  Telemachus  applies  the  moral  of  the 
story,  strife  ending  in  love,  as  an  omen  of  happy 
conclusion  of  present  troubles,  and  dismisses  the 
maidens.  Alone  with  his  mother  he  informs  her  of 
what  she  has  already  divined,  that  the  guest  is  Odys 
seus  himself,  as  he  had  discovered  by  secretly  observ 
ing  the  stranger's  actions. 

He  tells  her  that,  disclosing  himself  to  his  father, 
they  had  entered  the  Banquet  Hall  to  test  the  temper 
of  the  suitors,  and  were  despitefully  used,  and  that 
Odysseus  was  now  resolved  upon  full  and  speedy 
vengeance  with  the  bow. 

Still  awaiting  Odysseus '  return  from  the  queen's 
chamber,  Penelope  summons  her  maidens  and  orders 
them  to  perform  the  Archer's  Chorus,  imitating  the 
bowmen  at  Troy.  Eurycleia  enters-  in  the  midst  of  the 
dance,  and  bids  it  cease.  She  discloses  that  the 
stranger  guest  is  Odysseus,  discovered  by  her  through 
the  scar  made  in  his  youth  by  the  \vild  boar's  tusk. 
Odysseus  enters  clothed  in  armor,  over  which,  how 
ever,  he  wears  the  beggar's  cloak.  The  maidens  greet 
him,  and  in  their  name  Eurycleia  promises  their 
spiritual  assistance.  Under  her  leadership  they  re 
present  in  choric  dance  "The  Origin  of  the  Bow," 
which  is  a  graphic  narrative  of  the  slaying  of  the 
Snake,  the  symbol  of  evil,  by  the  Arrow,  the  symbol  of 
Nemesis. 

Odysseus  relates  the  legend  of  Apollo  slaying  the 
Python  in  this  connection,  ending  with  the  story  of 
the  establishment  of  the  Pythian  Games  in  commem- 


10  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

oration  of  the  deed.  Telemachus  and  the  Maidens 
enact  in  pantomime  the  athletic  games,  taking  poses 
of  various  Greek  statues.  At  the  close  they  perform 
a  chorus,  ' '  The  Vengeance  of  the  Bow, ' '  in  which  the 
slaying  of  Niobe's  children  by  Apollo  and  Diana 
is  represented,  and  the  various  poses  of  the  "Niobe 
group"  of  sculptures  are  taken. 

Odysseus  and  Telemachus  approach  the  altar  and 
invoke  various  gods  for  success  in  their  coming 
battle.  They  then  throw  back  the  doors  of  the  Ban 
quet  Hall,  and,  rushing  within,  engage  in  the 
Slaughter  of  the  Suitors.  Penelope,  standing  on  the 
porch,  describes  the  action  to  the  maidens  in  the 
court  below,  who  reflect  it  in  their  emotive  movements 
and  expressions. 

The  play  ends  with  Phemius  emerging  on  the  porch 
and  completing  his  opening  pitiful  song  with  a  joyous 
ending;  Odysseus  and  Telemachus  reappearing  vic 
torious  from  the  contest  in  the  Banquet  Hall;  and  the 
maidens  in  the  court  below  waving  palm  branches  in 
a  Dance  of  Triumph. 


Act  I 

THE  DESPAIR  OF  PENELOPE 

Evening;  there  is  a  full  moon. 

Revelry  of  the  suitors  within  the  Banquet  Hall. 
Through  the  open  door  of  the  Hall  Phemius  comes 
forward,  and,  standing  on  the  porch,  sings  to  the  ac 
companiment  of  his  harp: 

SONG 
THE  PITIFUL  RETURN  OF  THE  ACH^EANS 

"And  his  song  was  of  the  pitiful  return  of  the 
Achaeans  that  Pallas  Athene  laid  on  them  as  they  came 
back  from  Troy." 

PHEMIUS 

HO  for  the  homeward  bound, 
Aias!     Already  thine  ears 
Catch  in  the  joy  of  the  sound 
Omen  of  welcoming  cheers; 

Ay,  but  ever  thy  folk 

Greet  thee,  the  godhead  defied, 

Hurling  the  lightning  stroke, 
Layeth  thee  low  in  thy  pride. 

[11] 


12  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

Wo  for  thy  coming  home, 
Great  Agamemnon,  king! 

Over  the  flying  foam 

Swiftly  the  white  sails  wing, 

Bearing  thee  on  to  thy  goal, 

The  Treason  within  thy  gates  — 

Love  in  her  eyes,  in  her  soul 

Death,  by  the  doom  of  the  Fates ! 

Oh  for  thy  sweet  return, 

Dear  Odysseus,  lord! 
Heavy  the  hearts  are  that  yearn, 

Eyes  are  aweary  that  ward 


"Now  as  the  renowned  minstrel  was  singing  to  the 
wooers  .  .  .  from  her  upper  chamber  the  daughter  of 
Icarius,  wise  PENELOPE,  caught  the  glorious  strain  and 
went  down  the  high  stairs  from  her  room.  .  .  .  Then 
she  fell  a-weeping  and  spake"  (appearing  at  top  of 
palace  steps  at  right,  and  breaking  in  upon  the  pitiful 
song) : 

PENELOPE 

Cruel,  0  Phemius,  cruel  and  inhuman! 

0  minstrel  dear,  the  piteous  strain  give  o'er. 
For  never  wo  as  this  was  laid  on  woman, 

So  mighty  grows  my  longing  evermore 
For  his  dear  head,  whose  fame  by  friend  and  foeman 

Is  noised  from  windy  Troy  to  Argos'  shore. 

Phemius  withdraws  to  the  Banquet  Hall.  Penelope 
descends  the  steps  to  the  side  of  the  altar  and 
communes  with  herself: 


THE  DESPAIR  OF  PENELOPE  13 

Ten  weary  years,  my  boy  my  sole  defender, 
Have  I,  to  balk  the  suitor  train  abhorred, 

Matched  with  a  woman's  wile  my  spindle  slender 
Against  the  rude  enforcement  of  the  sword. 

Now  fails  my  heart,  and  with  a  foe  so  tender 
I  may  not  strive;  I  die  without  my  lord. 

Day-long  there  rises  from  my  blood-stained  valleys 
The  bellowed  terror  of  the  boding  steer; 

And  night-long  in  my  lust-polluted  palace 
The  riot  of  the  lords  afflicts  mine  ear; 

And,  day  and  night  enmeshed  by  their  malice, 
I  see  the  fatal  hour  of  doom  draw  near. 

A  few  more  days,  and  not  a  kid  remaineth 
To  flesh  the  insatiate  hunger  of  the  steel; 

A  few  more  nights,  and  wasteful  revel  draineth 
The  wine-jar  last  to  lose  the  ancient  seal; 

Then,  ere  yon  orb  unto  a  crescent  waneth, 
The  rage  of  thwarted  passion  shall  I  feel. 

But  little  then  will  serve  this  light  deceiving, 
The  fruitless  labor  of  the  barren  loom, 

The  weary  web,  the  weaving  and  unweaving; 
Yet  courage,  heart,  Odysseus'  craft  assume; 

Better  to  break  a-work  than  waste  a-grieving, 
Still  with  Laertes'  shroud  delay  thy  doom. 

Then  come,  my  maidens,  softly,  softly  treading, 
Till  safe  beneath  the  stars  ye  fear  no  wrong; 

Come  bearing  distaffs  in  your  hands,  and  threading 
The  flaxen  twist,  the  while  ye  steal  along; 


14  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

And,  for  the  guidance  of  my  fancy,  wedding 
The  warp  of  woven  steps  and  woof  of  song. 

The  Maidens  of  Penelope,  bearing  distaffs  and 
strands  of  flax,  enter  right  and  left,  in  single  files, 
moving  to  slow  music.  The  right  file  is  led  by  Eury- 
nome,  the  left  by  Adraste. 

CHORUS 
THE  PASSAGE  OF  THE  BANQUET  HALL 

EURYNOME 
Hist! 

ADRASTE 

Hush,  maidens  all! 

EURYNOME 

Silence  in  chambers — 

Eurycleia  appears  suddenly  from  the  Banquet 
Hall  in  the  center  in  great  agitation. 

EURYCLEIA 

Peace  in  the  hall; 

Over  the  house  of  Odysseus,  quiet. 

Heavy  with  wine, 

Weary  with  riot, 

Suitor  and  server 


THE   DESPAIR   OF   PENELOPE  15 

Slumber  like  swine. 

Wo  for  the  blot  on  the  palace's  name! 

Ai,  di}  the  house 's  shame ! 

MAIDENS 

Ai,  the  shame! 

EURYCLEIA 

Like  as  a  swallow, 

Eaves-seeking,  estrayed 

The  lintels  within 

Of   shrined   Apollo, 

Stricken  with   dread, 

Circles  to  win 

Out  of  the  hollow 

Of  dim,  silent  things 

Unto  the  joy  of  the  wide  air's  dominions; 

Yet  swift  as  her  wings 

Havenward  hurtle, 

Ay,  ever  she  swings, 

On  terror-pulsed  pinions 

That  pause  not  nor  falter, 

Backward  in  flight, 

Her  eyes  quick  dartle: 

They  see  the  gray  altar: 
The  bones  gleam  white 
Through   garlands   still   green 
And  half -charred  embers; 
They  see,  and  the  sight 
No  mortal  has  seen, 


16  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

Or,  seeing,  remembers, 

Since  death  is  his  doom  — 

They  see  by  the  light 

Of  the  sun-flooded  portal, 

Self-shapen  from  gloom, 

Beautiful,  bright, 

And  towering  in  glory  and  grandeur  and  might, 

The  godhead  immortal! 

So  I,  in  error 

Birdlike,  darting 

The   suitors   among 

Drunken  in  hall, 

Backward  in  terror 

A  breathing  space  starting, 

Forward  flung 

Swift  through  them  all, 

As  senseless  they  slumbered  like  cattle  in  stall; 

Yet  brief  as  I  lingered, 

With  anguish  sharp 

The  shame  and  the  wrong 

Were  graven  deep 

Into  my  soul: 

There  Phemius  fingered, 

Nerveless,  his  harp 

As  though  in  mid-song 

O'ertaken  by  sleep; 

Cheek  to  board,  lip  to  bowl, 

His  locks  deep  stained 

In  the  pooled  gore 

Of  dark  lees  of  wine, 

Eurymachus  lay  like  a  victim  supine. 


THE  DESPAIR  OF  PENELOPE     17 

Then,  ere  I  had  gained 

The  farther  door, 

Lordly,  divine, 

Imperious,  tall, 

Antinoiis  rose  in  the  midst  of  the  hall 

From  his  seat  on  the  throne;. 

And  forth  from  his  face 

Clear  cut  as  in  stone, 

His  eyes'  soft  langour, 

His  lips'  curling  grace, 

The  deity  shone, 

For  the  finger  of  Fate  sets  its  seal  on  its  own; 

And  nameless  anger, 

And  hope  without  name 

Smote  through  my  soul  and  thrilled  through  my 

frame, 
A'i,  di,  the  house's  shame! 

MAIDENS 

Al,  the  shame. 

Penelope,  wringing  her  hands,  walks  away  from  the 
maidens  to  the  side  of  the  court. 

EURYNOJIE 

Cease  for  our  queen's  sake,  Eurycleia  dear, 
Thy  raven  croakings  of  the  house's  shame! 

For  these  ring  ever  in  her  troubled  ear 
And  wake  vain  sorrow.     Equally  I  blame 

Thy  cuckoo  calls  of  spring  in  winter  drear; 
Why  weave  within  the  meshes  of  her  brain 
Strands  of  a  baseless  hope  to  be  unwrought  again? 


18  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

Our  task  is  fairer,  maidens,  for  we  feign 
In  endless  windings,  endless  trickery 

Whereby  our  lady's  craft  and  cunning  gain 
Respite  from  wrong,  comfort  in  constancy, 

And  solace  for  the  ever  gnawing  pain, 

The  smoldering  flame  that  in  her  bosom  burns 
Which  will  not  die  until  our  lord  returns. 

CHORUS 
THE  WEAVING 

STROPHE 

(Eurynome  and  half  of  the  maidens] 

Weaving  a-weaving, 
What  are  ye  weaving 
Maidens  all? 

ANTISTROPHE 

(Adraste  and  the  other  maidens) 

Weaving   a-weaving, 

A  shroud  are  we  weaving, 

Shroud  and  a  pall. 

STROPHE 

Weaving   a-weaving, 
Strange  shroud  are  ye  weaving 
And  lordly   attire 
In  cloth  of  gold. 


THE   DESPAIR   OF  PENELOPE  19 


ANTISTROPHE 


Yea,  we  are  are  weaving 
A  shroud  for  the  living, 
Odysseus '    sire, 
The  gardener  old. 


STROPHE 


Weaving  a-weaving, 
Why  needeth  the  living 
Garment  so  grim? 

ANTISTROPHE 

Weaving  a-weaving, 
For  youth  is  he  grieving ; 
His  senses  grow  dim. 


STROPHE 


But  fair  is  the  mourning 
And  rich  the  adorning 
To  grieve  for  the  past . 

ANTISTROPHE 

Ay,  but  to  hoping 

Through  blindness  and  groping, 

Day  dawns  at  last. 

STROPHE 

No  more  he  discerneth 
The  blooms  that  unfold, 


20  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

And  ever  he  yearneth 
For  smell  of  the  mold; 
No  more  for  him  breaketh 
The  sun-bright  morn, 
No  more  he  awaketh 
To  scent  of  the  thorn; 
What  means  this  derision 
To  age-clouded  eyes  — 
How  shall  to  his  vision 
Promise  arise? 

ANTISTROPHE 

His  eyes  toward  the  even 

Age  ever  turns 

Where  fair  in  the  heaven 

Hesperus  burns: 

Hesper  the  herald 

Who  brings  to  their  rest 

Sheep  to  the  sheep-fold,  , 

Babe  to  the  breast;* 

Who  gives  to  the  sightless 

Faith  stronger  than  sight, 

Light  to  the  lightless, 

Hope  in  the  night; 

For  Hesper  will  gather 

What  Eos  hath  strown : 

The  son  to  the  father, 

The  prince  to  his  own! 

*  These  four  lines  are  a  translation  of  a  fragment  of  Sappho. 


THE  DESPAIR  OF  PENELOPE  21 

EPODE 

(An) 

So  we  are  weaving, 

Weaving,  a-weaving! 

In  mystical  blending 

An  endless  deceiving, 

An  endless  believing, 

A  garment  of  guile  and  of  hope  never  ending, 

Weaving,  a-weaving, 

SONG 

THE  DEAD  GARDENER 
CHLORIS 

Oh  what  shall  we  wreathe  for  a  border  fair 

In  the  good  old  gardener's  shroud: 
The  blooms  that  blazon  their  beauty  rare, 
Or  the  shy  little  blossoms  that  hardly  dare 

To  lift  up  their  heads  in  a  crowd? 

For  the  stately  lily  and  queenly  rose 

He  watered  and  trellised  well, 
Yet  he  loved  the  tiniest  flower  that  grows, 
And  only  the  heel-trodden  daisy  knows 

Where  the  dew  of  his  tear-drop  fell! 

EPODE 
(All) 

Wreathing,  a-wreathing, 
In  fairest   designing, 


22  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

Ivy  and  helichryse  wreathing  and  twining, 
Shape  we  the  border 
In  rhythmic  order, 

The  golden  bloom  and  the  green  leaves  combin 
ing; 

And,  to  and  fro 
As  we  come  and  go, 
Here  and  there  a  flower  we  strow, 
The  swarthy  blossom  of  lettered  wo, 
Ai,  ai,  crying 
For  Hyacinthus  dying 
When  it  was  stained  with  the  purple  flow 
That  ebbed  in  gentle  breathing 
Forth  from  his  body  rare. 
So  let  us  form  our  wreathing, 
Our  wreathing,  our  wreathing, 
Of  somber  blooms  and  fair! 

During  the  Epode  the  Maidens  lay  aside  their 
distaffs,  and,  taking  ivy  sprays  and  flowers  from  their 
bosoms,  scatter  these  about  the  court  and  on  the  altar. 

PENELOPE 

Give  o'er  the  dance    Eurynome,  give  o'er 
The  joyful  dance  my  maidens  all,  for  I, 

Wearied  with  mighty  yearning  evermore, 
And  fain,  for  lack  of  my  dear  lord,  to  die, 

Love  not  its  meshed  measures  as  of  yore. 

Give  o'er  the  dance,   my  maidens   dear,  the   joyful 
dance  give  o'er. 


THE  DESPAIR   OF  PENELOPE  23 

Lay  by  the  distaffs,  maidens  all,  lay  by 

The  garlands  gay  and  twists  of  yellow  twine, 

And  cease  the  song  of  happy  revelry, 
For  very  heavy  is  this  heart  of  mine, 

And  all  its  music  tuned  to  a  sigh. 

Lay  by  the   distaffs,   maidens   all,   the   flaxen   twine 
lay  by. 

While  Penelope  is  speaking,  the  maidens,  taking  up 
their  distaffs,  retire,  right  and  left,  by  pairs. 

Come,  maidens,  tread  the  solemn  dance  divine, 

In  joyless  measures  suited  to  my  wo. 
Let  trailing  wreaths  of  sacrifice  be  thine, 

Swayed  in  soft  cadence,  sorrowful  and  slow, 
And  hung  devoted  on  Athene's  shrine. 
Come,  tread  the  dance,  my  maidens  all,  the  solemn 
dance  divine. 

The  maidens  re-enter  with  long  green  sprays. 

Bow,  maidens,  at  Athene's  shrine,  bow  low; 

Before  the  mighty  godhead  bend  the  knee, 
And  pray  her  in  Odysseus'  name  to  show 

A  token  of  her  graeiousness  to  me, 
,That  truly  of  my  lord's  dear  life  I  know. 
Bow  low  before  Athene's  shrine,  my  maidens  all,  bow 
low. 

PANTOMINE 
THE  INVOCATION 

At  the  close  the  maidens  retire,  two  by  two,  right 
and  left,  leaving  Penelope  alone. 


24  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 


PENELOPE 

Peace-bearing  night,  whose  truce  I  trouble  nightly, 
Bring  rest  from  longing  with  the  homing  dove. 

0  Wind  of  Night,  that  landward  lifteth  lightly 
The  flapping  sail,  0  beacon  star  above 

The  low-hung  mists  of  even  burning  brightly, 
Draw  homeward  to  my  heart  the  man  I  love! 

0  Moon,  that  viewest  in  thy  three-fold  vision 
All  things  that  in  the  heavens  high  are  done, 

On  the  broad  earth,  in  darkling  fields  Elysian, 
To  whom  the  secrets  of  the  searching  sun 

And  subtle  sea  are  bared,  aid  my  decision; 
Bring  me  true  tidings  of  my  faithful  one! 

0  Earth,  and  thou,  Earth  Mother,  dear  Demeter, 
Who  for  thy  daughter  troubled  gods  and  men 

Till  Dis  resigned,  for  her  dark  hiding  sweeter, 
His  stolen  flower  —  oh,  by  that  rapture  when 

Thou  with  glad  day  and  greening  earth  did  greet  her, 
Give  o  'er  my  dear  one  to  these  arms  again ! 

Kneeling  before  the  altar. 

Athene,  child  of  Zeus,  his  aegis  o'er  thee, 
Girt  with  his  wisdom,  maiden  weariless, 

If  ever  thine  Odysseus  burnt  before  thee 

His  choicest  kine,  look  on  his  queen's  distress. 

Unto  her  weary  eyes  grant,  I  implore  thee, 
A  vision  of  his  loving  faithfulness! 

Sinks  in  slumber  on  steps  at  right  of  altar. 


Interlude 

THE  VISIONS  OF  PENELOPE 

Darkness.     Morpheus  enters  on  the  left  in  ghostly 
attire.    He  speaks  : 


the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  made  a 
phantom,  and  fashioned  it  after  the  likeness  of  a 
woman,  Iphthime,  daughter  of  great-hearted  Icarius, 
and  she  sent  it  to  the  house  of  divine  Odysseus  to 
bid  Penelope  amid  her  sorrow  to  cease  from  her  weep 
ing  and  lamentation.  So  the  phantom.  .  .  .  stood 
above  her  head  and  spake  unto  her,  saying: 

Enter  Iphthime.  Pantomime  between  Iphthime  and 
Penelope,  as  Morpheus  continues  : 

"Sleepest  thou,  Penelope,  stricken  at  heart?  Take 
courage  and  be  not  so  sorely  afraid.  For  lo!  such  a 
friend  as  all  men  pray  to  stand  by  them,  for  that  she 
hath  the  power,  Pallas  Athene  pitieth  thee  in  thy 
sorrow,  and  hath  sent  me  forth  to  speak  to  thee." 

Then  wise  Penelope  made  her  answer  as  she  slum 
bered  very  softly  at  the  gate  of  dreams  : 

'  '  If  thou  art  indeed  a  god,  and  hast  heard  the  word 
of  a  god,  come,  I  pray  thee,  and  tell  me  tidings  con 
cerning  that  ill-fated  man,  whether  perchance  he  is 
yet  alive  and  sees  the  light  of  sun,  or  hath  already 
died,  and  is  a  dweller  in  the  house  of  Hades.  " 

[25] 


26  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

And  the  dim  phantom  answered  her  and  said : 
' l  Concerning  him  I  will  not  tell  thee  all  the  tale,  but 
thine  own  eyes  shall  behold  many  of  the  perils  he  hath 
passed,  striving  to  win  his  own  life  and  the  return  of 
his  company,  and  thine  own  ears  shall  hear  him  re 
count  his  adventures." 

Iphthime  casts  incense  on  the  altar,  and  in  the 
smoke  appear  these  visions,  which  are  described  in 
the  words  of  Odysseus  by  Morpheus : 

THE  LOTUS  EATERS 

For  nine  whole  days  was  I  borne  from  Troy  by  ruin 
ous  winds  over  the  teeming  deep ;  but  on  the  tenth  day 
we  set  foot  on  the  land  of  the  lotus-eaters,  who  eat  a 
flowery  food.  So  we  stepped  ashore,  and  straightway 
my  company  took  their  midday  meal  by  the  swift 
ships.  And  to  us  came  the  kindly  people  of  the  land, 
bearing  the  fruit  of  the  lotus,  which  they  offered  us 
to  eat.  Fearing  the  strange  food,  Eurylochus,  my 
captain,  and  I  alone  forbore  to  partake  of  it.  And 
when  the  meal  was  ended,  and  I  called  upon  the 
company  to  return  to  the  ship  and  fare  forward  to 
Hellas,  only  Eurylochus  arose  with  me,  for  whosoever 
doth  eat  of  the  honey-sweet  fruit  of  the  lotus  hath 
no  other  wish  than  to  abide  in  that  land  with  its  kindly 
folk,  ever  feeding  on  the  lotus  and  forgetting  the  home 
ward  way.  Therefore  Eurylochus  and  I  were  con 
strained  to  pull  them  to  their  feet  and  to  hale  them 
back  to  the  ship  with  buffeting,  for  they  went  weep 
ing  and  sore  against  their  will. 


THE  VISIONS  OF  PENELOPE  27 

THE  CYCLOPS 

Thence  we  sailed  onward  to  the  land  of  the 
Cyclopes,  a  froward  and  a  lawless  folk.  Bidding 
Eurylochus  to  remain  on  the  ship  with  half  the 
company,  I  waded  ashore  with  the  rest  of  the  com 
rades,  carrying  with  us  two  skins  of  the  wine  of  Ilios 
as  a  drink  offering.  Wandering  along  the  strand  we 
came  upon  a  great  cave  opening  on  the  sea,  with  a 
sheepfold,  walled  by  huge  stones,  before  it.  Entering 
the  cavern  we  found  therein  baskets  laden  with 
cheeses,  and  kids  and  lambkins  in  pens  waiting  the 
return  of  their  dams  from  the  pastures.  My 
company  besought  me  to  take  the  cheeses  and  yean 
lings  and  to  sail  away  over  the  salt  sea  water. 
Howbeit  I  hearkened  not  (and  far  better  would  it 
have  been),  but  waited  to  see  the  owner  himself,  and 
whether  he  would  give  me  gifts  as  a  stranger's  due. 
A  fire  smoldered  in  the  cave,  and  we  mended  it  into  a 
blaze,  and  made  a  burnt  offering  of  a  kid,  where 
of  we  did  eat,  and  of  the  cheeses  also.  At  dusk  the 
bleating  flock  told  us  of  the  return  of  the  shepherd, 
and  anon  he  filled  the  cave's  mouth  with  his  vast 
bulk,  for  he  was  a  monstrous  thing,  and  fashioned 
marvellously,  since  he  had  but  a  single  eye,  and  that 
was  placed  in  his  forehead's  center,  beneath  one 
shaggy  eyebrow  that  spanned  his  brow  from  ear  to 
ear.  He  bare  a  grievous  weight  of  dry  wood  against 
supper  time,  which  he  cast  with  a  great  din  inside  the 
cave.  Amid  the  clatter  we  fled  in  great  fear  to  the 
dark  recesses  of  the  cavern,  but  to  none  avail,  for, 
after  leading  his  flocks  into  the  cave  for  the  milking, 


28  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

and  closing  the  entrance  with  a  vast  doorstone,  he 
replenished  the  fire,  and  by  its  light  beheld  us  cower 
ing. 

"Strangers,  who  are  ye?"  he  called.  "On  some 
trading  enterprise,  or  at  adventure  do  ye  rove,  even 
as  sea-robbers  over  the  brine? —  for  at  hazard  of  their 
own  lives  they  wander,  bringing  bale  to  alien  men." 

So  spake  he,  but  as  for  us  our  hearts  were  broken 
for  terror  of  the  deep  voice  and  monstrous  shape ;  yet 
despite  all  I  answered:  "Lo,  we  are  Achaeans, 
driven  out  of  our  course  by  evil  winds  on  our  return 
from  Troy,  that  great  city  which  our  mighty  chief 
Agamemnon  hath  sacked,  destroying  many  people. 
Blown  hither  by  chance,  we  have  come  as  suppliants 
to  thee,  the  lord  of  the  island,  so  that,  mayhap,  thou 
wilt  give  us  the  stranger's  due.  Have  regard  to  the 
gods,  I  pray  thee,  for  Zeus  is  the  avenger  of  sup 
pliants  and  sojourners." 

So  I  spake  beseechingly,  but  he  answered  grimly 
out  of  his  pitiless  heart :  ' l  Thou  art  witless,  stranger, 
or  thou  hast  come  from  afar,  who  biddest  me  to  fear 
the  gods,  for  verily  the  Cyclopes  are  better  men  than 
they.  Nor  would  I,  to  shun  the  enmity  of  Zeus,  spare 
thee  or  thy  company  unless  my  spirit  bade  me.  But 
tell  me,  where  didst  thou  stay  thy  well-wrought  ship 
on  thy  coming?  Was  it  at  the  far  end  of  the  island, 
or  hard  by?" 

And  I,  to  save  the  company  not  yet  in  his  clutches, 
answered  with  words  of  guile:  "As  for  my  ship, 
Poseidon,  lord  of  the  sea,  brake  it  in  pieces  on  the 
headland  hard  by,  and  it  sank  utterly,  we  being  able 
to  win  the  shore  only  with  our  dripping  garments 


THE  VISIONS  OF  PENELOPE  29 

and  two  skins  of  most  precious  wine,  our  share  in  the 
sack  of  the  palace  of  Priam,  king  of  Troy.  This  we 
beg  you  to  accept  as  the  due  from  strangers  to  the 
lord  of  the  land." 

But,  either  mindless  of  the  gift  (or,  indeed,  wotting 
not  what  wine  might  be),  and  no  longer  withheld  by 
fear  of  vengeance  at  the  hand  of  our  comrades,  he 
answered  me  not  a  word  out  of  his  pitiless  heart,  but 
sprang  up  and,  laying  his  hands  upon  two  of  us, 
lifted  them  on  high  and  dashed  them,  as  they  had  been 
whelps,  to  the  earth,  so  that  their  brains  flowed  forth 
on  the  ground.  Then  he  made  ready  his  supper.  .  .  . 

We  wept  and  raised  our  hands  to  Zeus,  beholding 
the  cruel  deeds,  and  were  at  our  wits'  end. 

But,  after  the  Cyclops  had  filled  his  huge  maw  with 
human  flesh,  I  took  counsel  in  my  heart,  and  went 
forward  bearing  a  skin  of  wine,  and  said :  ' l  Cyclops, 
take  wine  after  thy  feast  of  man's  meat,  that  thou 
mayest  know  what  manner  of  drink  this  is  that  we 
brought  thee  as  an  offering,  if  haply  thou  mightest 
take  pity  on  us  and  send  us  on  our  way  home. ' ' 

So  he  grasped  the  skin,  and  drank  therefrom, 
slowly  at  first,  but  with  growing  delight  at  the  sweet 
wine,  so  that  he  gulped  it  down  in  great  draughts 
till  not  a  drop  remained.  Then  he  asked  for  the  second 
skin,  saying:  "Give  it  me  again  of  thy  grace,  that 
I  may  grant  thee  a  stranger's  gift.  The  juice  of  the 
grape  I  know,  for  often  do  I  eat  the  ripe  clusters, 
but  this  is  the  gods'  own  nectar." 

So  I  bare  to  him  the  second  wine-skin,  and  he 
drained  it  also,  and  anon  sank  to  the  ground  with 
nerveless  limbs. 


30  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

Seeing  that  the  wine  had  got  about  the  wits  of  the 
Cyclops,  I  spake  to  him  with  soft  words:  "Cyclops, 
thou  askedst  my  renowned  name,  and  I  will  declare  it 
unto  thee,  and  do  thou  grant  me  a  stranger's  gift  as 
>thou  hast  promised.  'Noman'  is  my  name  —  so  all 
my  fellows  call  me." 

Straightway  he  answered  me  out  of  his  pitiless 
heart :  ' '  '  Noman '  will  I  eat  last  of  his  fellows :  that 
shall  be  thy  gift." 

Therewith  he  sank  backwards  and  fell  with  face 
upturned,  and  sleep,  that  conquers  all  men,  overcame 
him.  Then  I  summoned  my  comrades,  and  we  took  the 
giant's  club,  and,  hacking  with  our  swords,  shaped  it 
to  a  point,  which  we  put  in  the  fire  till  it  glowed 
terribly.  Then  my  comrades  seized  the  mighty  club 
and,  lifting  it  on  end,  thrust  the  burning  point  into 
the  eye  of  the  Cyclops,  while  I  stood  astride  of  his 
head  and  turned  the  club  around  as  a  ship's  carpen 
ter  bores  a  beam  with  a  drill. 

And  the  Cyclops  raised  a  great  and  terrible  cry, 
and  we  fled  back  in  fear  while  he  plucked  forth  from 
his  eye  the  hissing  bloody  brand,  and  cast  it  from 
him.  Then  he  called  with  loud  voice  on  his  fellow 
Cyclopes,  who  dwelt  about  him  in  the  sea-caves. 
Gathering  round  the  cave  door  they  asked  what  ailed 
him  that  he  disturbed  their  slumbers. 

"What  hath  so  distressed  thee,  Polyphemus?  Thy 
flocks  are  safe,  and  surely  no  man  slayeth  thee  by 
force  or  craft. ' ' 

And  strong  Polyphemus  spake  to  them  again  from 
out  the  cave:  "My  friends,  Noman  is  slaying  me  by 
guile,  nor  at  all  by  craft." 


THE  VISIONS   OF  PENELOPE  31 

Then  they  laughed  him  to  scorn  as  a  witless  man, 
and  returned  to  their  beds,  and  my  heart  within  me 
laughed  also  to  see  how  my  cunning  had  beguiled 
them. 

But  Polyphemus,  groaning  in  pain,  groped  with 
his  hands,  and  lifted  away  the  stone  from  the  door  of 
the  cave,  and  sat  in  the  entry  with  arms  outstretched 
to  catch  us  if  we  went  forth  with  the  flock  —  so  wit 
less,  methinks,  did  he  hope  to  find  me. 

But  I  counseled  my  fellows  to  bind  together  the 
rams  of  the  flock  by  threes,  and  bade  each  man  cling 
to  the  middle  one  of  the  three,  so  that  they  should 
safely  pass  by  the  Cyclops.  And  thus  we  returned  to 
the  ship  with  many  fat  and  goodly  fleeced  sheep. 

CIRCE 

Thence  we  sailed  onward  glad  as  men  saved  from 
death,  albeit  we  had  lost  dear  companions.  And  we 
came  to  the  isle  Aeaean,  where  dwelt  Circe  of  the 
braided  tresses,  an  awful  goddess  of  mortal  speech, 
who  was  a  sorceress.  Dividing  my  company  into  two 
bands,  we  chose  by  lot  which  should  go  to  entreat  the 
ruler  of  the  land  for  the  stranger's  due,  and  which 
should  stay  by  the  ship.  To  Eurylochus  it  fell  to  lead 
his  men  to  the  palace.  In  the  forest  glades  they  found 
the  halls  of  Circe  builded  of  polished  stone.  And  all 
around  the  palace  wolves  and  lions  were  roaming,  yet 
they  did  not  set  on  my  men,  but  lo,  they  ramped  about 
them  and  fawned  on  them,  wagging  their  long  tails, 
for  they  were  men  who  had  been  bewitched  with  un 
canny  drugs.  But  my  companions  were  affrighted 


32  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

when  they  saw  the  strange  and  terrible  creatures.  So 
they  stood  at  the  outer  gate  until  they  heard 
Circe  singing  within  in  a  sweet  voice  as  she  fared  to 
and  fro  before  a  great  web,  imperishable,  full  of  grace 
and  splendour.  Wiled  by  her  song,  Polites  called  to 
her,  and  straightway  she  came  forth  and  opened  the 
shining  doors  and  bade  them  in.  Only  Eurylochus 
tarried  behind  watching  at  the  gate,  for  he  guessed 
that  there  was  some  treason.  So  Circe  set  Polites  and 
the  rest  on  high  seats,  and  made  them  a  mess  of  cheese 
and  barley  meal,  and  gave  them  in  a  great  cup  yellow 
honey  and  Pramnian  wine,  wherewith  she  secretly 
mixed  harmful  drugs.  Now  when  they  had  all  drunk 
of  the  cup,  Circe  smote  them  with  a  wand,  and  they 
were  changed  in  form  to  swine,  though  their  minds 
abode  even  as  of  old.  So  they  wept  when  she  penned 
them  in  styes  and  flung  to  them  bitter  acorns,  and 
mast,  and  fruit  of  the  cornel  tree  whereon  swine  do 
batten. 

Now  Eurylochus  came  back  to  the  black  ship  a-weep- 
ing  with  tidings  of  his  fellows,  and  of  their  unseemly 
doom.  And  I  cast  about  my  shoulders  my  silver- 
studded  sword,  a  great  blade  of  bronze,  and  slung  my 
bow  about  me,  and  bade  him  lead  me  again  by  the  way 
he  came.  But,  catching  me  with  both  hands  and  by 
my  knees,  he  besought  me  not  to  go  to  my  doom. 
"For  well  I  know  thou  shalt  thyself  return  no  more, 
nor  bring  anyone  of  all  our  fellowship;  nay,  let  us 
flee  the  swifter  with  those  that  be  here,  for  even  yet 
we  may  escape  the  evil  day." 

But  I  answered  him  saying:  "Eurylochus,  abide 
for  thy  part  by  the  black  hollow  ship;  but  I  will  go 


THE  VISIONS  OF  PENELOPE  33 

forth,  for  a  strong  constraint  is  upon  me." 

With  that  I  went  up  from  the  sea-shore.  But  lo, 
in  my  faring  through  the  sacred  glades,  Hermes,  of 
the  winged  wand,  met  me,  in  the  likeness  of  a  young 
man  with  the  first  down  on  his  lip,  the  time  when 
youth  is  most  gracious.  So  he  clasped  my  hand,  and 
hailed  me :  "  Ah,  hapless  man,  whither  away  all  alone 
through  the  wolds,  thou  that  knowest  not  this  evil 
country?  Thy  company  yonder  is  penned  in  the  halls 
of  Circe,  in  the  guise  of  swine  in  filthy  straw  abid 
ing.  Is  it  in  hope  to  free  them  that  thou  comest  ?  Nay, 
methinks  thou  shalt  never  return,  but  remain  with  the 
others.  Come,  then,  I  will  bring  deliverance.  Lo, 
take  this  herb  of  virtue —  moly,  the  gods  call  it,  for  it 
is  unknown  to  mortal  eyes,  growing  in  secret  places. 
It  will  save  thee  from  the  enchantment  of  Circe." 

Then  Hermes  departed  to  Olympus,  and  I  came  with 
high  heart  to  the  house  of  the  enchantress.  I  called 
aloud  at  the  portals,  and  she  presently  came  forth 
and  bade  me  enter.  So  she  led  me  in,  and  set  me  on 
a  goodly  carven  chair,  with  studs  of  silver.  And  she 
made  me  a  potion  in  a  golden  cup  that  I  might  drink, 
and  she  also  put  a  charm  therein  in  the  evil  counsel 
of  her  heart.  Now  when  she  had  given  it  me,  and  I 
had  drunk  it  off,  she  smote  me  with  her  wand  and 
commanded  me :  ' '  Go  thy  way  now  to  the  stye,  couch 
thee  there  with  the  rest  of  thy  company. ' ' 

So  spake  she,  but  I  drew  my  sharp  sword  from  my 
thigh  and  sprang  upon  Circe  as  one  eager  to  slay  her. 
But  with  a  great  cry  she  slipped  under,  and  clasped 
my  knees,  and  bewailing  herself  spake  to  me  winged 
words : 


34  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

"Who  art  thou  of  the  sons  of  men?  I  marvel  to  see 
how  thou  hast  drunk  of  this  charm  and  wast  nowise 
subdued.  Thou  hast,  methinks,  a  mind  within  thee 
that  may  not  be  enchanted.  Verily  thou  art  Odysseus, 
ready  at  need,  whom  he  of  the  winged  wand  full  oft 
hath  told  me  was  to  come  hither  on  his  way  from 
Troy  in  his  swift  black  ship.  Nay,  come,  put  up  thy 
sword  and  let  us  meet  in  love  and  trust." 

So  spake  she,  but  I  answered  her,  saying:  "Nay, 
Circe,  how  canst  thou  bid  me  be  gentle  to  thee,  who 
hast  turned  my  company  into  swine,  and  wouldst  have 
done  so  even  to  me?  I  will  not  let  thee  go,  goddess, 
until  thou  hast  sworn  a  mightj^  oath  that  thou  wilt  free 
my  company,  and  plan  nought  else  of  mischief  to 
our  hurt." 

So  Circe  swore  by  the  awful  Styx,  the  oath  binding 
on  the  immortals,  that  she  would  do  all  even  as  I 
willed,  and  with  wand  in  hand  she  passed  with  me 
through  the  hall,  and  opened  the  doors  of  the  stye,  and 
drove  my  companions  forth  in  the  shape  of  swine. 
And  she  passed  among  them  anointing  them  with 
another  charm.  Then,  waving  her  wand  above  them, 
she  commanded  that  they  resume  their  former  state. 
And  lo,  from  the  limbs  the  bristles  dropped  away,  and 
they  became  men  again,  younger  than  before  they 
were,  and  goodlier  to  behold.  And  they  all  knew  me 
again,  and  each  one  took  my  hands,  and  wistful  was 
their  lament,  so  that  even  the  cruel  goddess  was  moved 
with  compassion. 

So  she  entreated  me  and  my  companions  kindly; 
yea,  she  even  imparted  to  me  a  secret  known  only  to 
the  gods,  that  if  I  would  come  safely  home  I  must 


THE   VISIONS  OF  PENELOPE  35 

first  pass  through  the  dark  halls  of  Hades  and  learn 
there  from  the  shade  of  Teiresias,  the  blind  sooth 
sayer,  the  way  and  measure  of  my  path  over  the  teem 
ing  deep. 

ODYSSEUS  IN  HADES 

So  our  black  ship  came  to  the  limits  of  the  world,  to 
the  deep-flowing  Oceanus,  which  washes  the  land  of 
the  Cimmerians,  where  never  shines  the  sun,  but  al 
ways  deadly  night  is  outspread  over  miserable  mortals. 
There  I  found,  as  Circe  had  told  me,  the  grim  entrance 
to  Hades.  And  when  I  had  made  supplication  and 
poured  a  libation  to  the  lordly  races  of  the  dead,  and 
offered  to  Dis,  the  lord  of  Hades,  a  ram  and  a  black 
ewe,  the  departed  spirits  gathered  from  out  Erebus 
around  the  blood  of  the  sacrifice.  Brides  and  youths 
unwed,  and  old  men  of  many  and  evil  days  there  were, 
and  men  slain  in  battle  with  their  bloody  mail  about 
them.  And  these  many  ghosts  flocked  about  the 
trench  with  a  wondrous  cry,  and  pale  fear  gat  hold  on 
me.  So  I  drew  the  sharp  sword  from  my  thigh,  and 
sat  there,  suffering  not  the  strengthless  heads  to  draw 
nigh  to  the  blood  ere  I  had  word  of  Teiresias.  Anon 
came  the  soul  of  Theban  Teiresias  with  a  golden 
sceptre  in  his  hand,  and  I  suffered  him  to  drink  of  the 
dark  blood,  after  which  he  foretold  the  sufferings  I 
was  yet  to  endure.  "Late  shalt  thou  return  in  evil 
plight,  with  the  loss  of  all  thy  company,  on  board  the 
ship  of  strangers,  and  thou  shalt  find  sorrows  in  thy 
house,  even  proud  men  that  devour  thy  living,  while 
they  woo  thy  godlike  wife.  And  even  when  thou  hast 
slain  the  wooers  in  thy  halls  thou  shalt  not  rest,  but 


36  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

must  travel  afar  with  an  oar  on  thy  shoulder  till  thou 
come  to  a  country  where  men  shall  call  it  a  winnow 
ing  fan,  because  they  know  naught  of  the  sea.  There 
fasten  the  oar  into  the  earth,  and  sacrifice  to  thine 
enemy,  Poseidon,  lord  of  the  sea,  and  he  shall  at  last 
be  pacified.  And  from  the  sea  shall  thine  own  death 
come,  the  gentlest  death  that  may  be,  which  shall  end 
thee  foredone  with  smooth  old  age,  and  thy  folk  shall 
dwell  happily  around  thee." 

Then  the  soul  of  my  mother  dead,  Anticleia,  whom  I 
left  alive  when  I  departed  for  sacred  Troy,  drew 
nigh  and  drank  the  dark  blood,  whereupon  she  knew 
me,  and  bewailing  herself  spake  to  me  winged  words : 
''Dear  child,  how  didst  thou  once  come  beneath  the 
darkness,  thou  that  art  a  living  man?  Art  thou  come 
hither  in  thy  long  wanderings  from  Troy,  or  hast  thou 
reached  Ithaca,  and  seen  thy  wife  in  thy  halls?" 

And  I  answered  her  and  said :  ' '  Not  yet  have  I  set 
foot  on  mine  own  country,  but  have  been  wandering 
evermore  in  affliction  from  the  day  that  I  went  with 
goodly  Agamemnon  to  Troy.  But  come,  declare  me: 
What  doom  overcame  thee  with  death?  Was  it  a  slow 
disease  or  did  Artemis  slay  thee  with  her  sudden 
shafts?  And  tell  me  of  my  father  and  son;  doth  my 
honour  yet  abide  with  them,  or  hath  another  already 
taken  it,  while  they  say  that  I  shall  come  home  no 
more  ?  And  tell  me  of  my  wedded  wife,  doth  she  abide 
with  her  son  and  keep  all  secure,  or  hath  she  already 
wedded  the  best  of  the  Achaeans?" 

And  my  lady  mother  answered:  "Yea,  verily,  she 
abideth  with  steadfast  spirit  in  thy  halls,  and  wearily 
for  her  the  nights  wane  always,  and  the  days,  in  shed- 


THE  VISIONS  OF  PENELOPE  37 

ding  of  tears.  And  the  fair  honour  that  is  thine  no 
man  hath  taken;  and  Telemachus  sits  at  peace  on  his 
demesne.  But  thy  father  abides  in  the  field,  sorrow 
ing  and  nursing  his  mighty  grief,  for  long  desire  of 
thy  return,  and  old  age  withal  comes  heavy  upon  him. 
Yea,  and  even  so  did  I  perish.  It  was  not  the  archer 
goddess  who  slew  me,  nor  did  any  sickness  come  upon 
me;  it  was  my  sore  longing  for  thee  that  reft  me  of 
life." 

So  spake  she,  and  I  would  fain  have  embraced  my 
mother  dead.  Thrice  I  sprang  towards  her,  and  was 
minded  to  embrace  her;  thrice  she  flitted  from  my 
hands  as  a  shadow,  or  even  as  a  dream,  and  grief 
waxed  ever  the  sharper  at  my  heart. 

THE   SIRENS 

Then  our  good  ship  came  to  the  island  of  the 
Sirens  twain.  And  I  stopped  with  wax  the  ears  of  all 
my  men  that  they  should  not  hear  the  beguiling  song 
of  these  awful  goddesses.  But  because  I  would  listen 
to  the  sweet  song  that  none  other  mortal  had  heard  and 
not  followed  to  his  doom,  I  bade  my  company  bind 
me,  hand  and  foot,  upright  to  the  mast-head.  And 
when  they  had  done  this,  they  sat  down  on  the  benches 
and  smote  the  grey  sea-water  with  their  long  oars. 
Then,  when  the  ship  was  within  the  sound  of  a  man's 
shout  from  the  land,  we  fleeing  lightly  on  our  way, 
the  Sirens  espied  the  swift  ship,  and  raised  their  clear- 
toned  song: 

"Hither,  come  hither,  renowned  Odysseus,  great 
glory  of  the  Achaeans,  here  stay  thy  barque,  that  thou 


38  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

mayest  listen  to  the  voice  of  us  twain.  For  none  hath 
ever  driven  by  this  way  in  his  black  ship  till  he  hath 
heard  from  our  lips  the  voice  sweet  as  the  honey 
comb,  and  hath  had  joy  thereof  and  gone  on  his  way 
the  wiser.  For  lo,  we  know  all  things,  all  the  travail 
that  in  wide  Troy-land  the  Argives  and  Trojans  bare 
by  the  gods'  design,  yea,  and  we  know  all  that  shall 
hereafter  be  on  the  fruitful  earth." 

So  spake  they  uttering  a  sweet  voice,  and  my  heart 
was  fain  to  listen,  and  I  bade  my  company  unbind  me, 
nodding  at  them  with  a  frown,  but  they  bent  to  their 
oars  and  rowed  on. 

SCYLLA  AND   CHARYBDIS 

We  soon  came  to  the  fair  islands  where  fed  the 
goodly  kine,  broad  of  brow,  of  Helios  Hyperion.  And 
against  my  will,  for  Teiresias  had  warned  me  of  the 
evils  that  should  befall  the  deed,  my  men,  being  a 
hungered,  slaughtered  the  sacred  kine  of  the  Sun-God. 
And  he,  who  overseeth  and  overheareth  all  things, 
when  we  embarked  sent  a  shrilling  storm  from  the 
West,  which  snapped  our  mast  and  swept  all  our  gear 
away.  And  the  mast  in  falling  ail-to  brake  the  skull 
of  our  pilot.  Then  Zeus  thundered,  and  struck  the 
ship  with  his  bolt,  so  that  it  was  filled  with  choking 
sulphur,  whereat  my  company  leaped  into  the  sea. 
Like  sea-gulls  they  were  borne  round  the  black  ship 
upon  the  billows,  and  the  god  reft  them  of  returning. 

So  I  was  left  alone  on  the  ship,  since  I  only  had 
taken  no  part  in  the  slaughter  of  the  sacred  kine. 
And  the  tempest  ceased,  yet  I  joyed  not  thereat ;  since 
in  its  stead  a  fair  south  wind  sprang  up  which  bore 


THE   VISIONS  OF  PENELOPE  39 

me  on  toward  the  dread  cliff  of  Seylla  and  the  whirl 
ing  pool  of  Charybdis,  feared  of  all  mariners.  Lean 
ing  mightily  on  the  helm,  I  'scaped  the  ragged  rock, 
but  only  to  find  my  ship  sucked  down  into  the  circl 
ing  surge.  But,  ere  it  sank,  I  leaped  on  high  and 
grasped  a  fig-tree  growing  on  the  cliff,  whereto  I 
clung  like  a  bat  until  the  broken  hull  was  vomited 
forth  again.  And  then  I  let  myself  drop  down  hands 
and  feet,  and  plunged  heavily  in  the  midst  of  the 
shattered  wreck.  Grasping  the  keel  timber,  I  climbed 
upon  it,  and  rowed  hard  with  my  hands  until  I  came 
safely  out  of  the  swirl  of  waters  into  the  calm  sea. 

CALYPSO 

Thence  for  nine  days  was  I  borne,  and  on  the  tenth 
night  the  gods  brought  me  nigh  to  the  isle  of  Or- 
tygia,  where  dwells  Calypso  of  the  braided  tresses, 
an  awful  goddess  of  mortal  speech,  who  took  me  in 
and  entreated  me  kindly. 

There  dwelt  I  many  days  consuming  my  heart  in 
longing  for  my  home  and  native  land,  despite  the  lov 
ing  regard  of  the  goddess  who  would  have  kept  me 
forever  as  her  consort,  for  she  had  the  power  to  confer 
immortality  on  whom  she  would.  And  when  at  last 
she  saw  that  my  misery  came  not  to  on  end,  but  grew 
ever  greater  until  I  was  like  to  perish  of  grief,  to  me 
she  came,  as  I  sat  on  the  strand  gazing  toward  Ithaca 
over  the  wide  sea,  and  spake  winged  words :  ' '  Lovest 
thou  so  thy  Penelope?  Truly  indeed  must  she  be 
worthy  of  thee,  and  I  a  goddess  would  be  not  a  whit 
less  great  of  soul  than  a  mortal  woman.  Behold,  I 


40  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

grant  thee  thy  wish  to  get  thee  home  to  thine  own  dear 
country  even  in  this  hour." 

So  she  gave  me  a  great  axe  of  bronze,  double-edged, 
and  she  led  me  where  tall  trees  grew,  alder  and  poplar, 
and  the  pine  that  reacheth  to  heaven.  And  when 
I  had  felled  a  score  of  the  lordly  trees,  she  gave  me  a 
polished  adze,  and  augers,  and  I  built  me  a  raft  with 
a  mast,  for  which  Calypso  wove  and  shaped  a  sail. 
And  the  goddess  placed  on  board  a  skin  of  dark  wine 
and  a  skin  of  clear  water,  and  corn,  too,  in  a  wallet. 
And,  instructing  me  in  the  guidance  of  the  stars,  she 
helped  me  with  her  divine  hands  to  launch  the  great 
raft,  and  made  a  warm  and  gentle  wind  to  blow,  which 
bore  me  forward  on  my  way. 

INO 

Now  when  I  had  come  nigh  the  goodly  land  of  the 
Phaeacians,  mine  enemy  divine,  Poseidon,  lord  of  the 
sea,  saw  me,  as  he  returned  from  sojourning  among 
the  blameless  Ethiopians,  and  was  wroth  at  whatso 
ever  god  had  opposed  his  fell  purpose  toward  me. 
Grasping  his  trident,  he  roused  all  storms  of  all  man 
ner  of  winds,  and  he  shrouded  in  clouds  the  land  and 
sea.  And  a  great  wave  smote  upon  my  raft,  so  that 
I  lost  the  helm  from  my  hand  and  was  swept  beneath 
the  dark  waters.  Nor  could  I  rise  speedily  from  be 
neath  the  rush  of  the  mighty  wave,  for  the  garments 
hung  heavy  which  Calypso  had  given  me.  But  at  last 
I  came  up,  spueing  forth  the  bitter  salt  water,  and 
sprang  forward  in  the  dark  wave  after  the  raft,  and 
clutched  it,  and  sat  in  the  midst  thereof,  avoiding  the 
issues  of  death.  And  the  great  wave  swept  the  raft 


THE  VISIONS  OF  PENELOPE  41 

hither  and  thither  along  the  stream,  for  the  storm 
had  reft  it  of  helm  and  mast  and  sail. 

But  the  daughter  of  Cadmus  marked  me,  Ino,  of 
the  fair  ankles,  who,  though  in  time  past  a  maiden  of 
mortal  speech,  did  now  in  the  depths  of  the  salt  sea 
get  proper  share  in  worship  of  the  gods.  Taking  pity 
on  me  in  my  travail,  she  rose,  like  a  sea-gull  on  the 
wing,  from  the  depth  of  the  mere,  and  sat  upon  the 
well-bound  raft,  and  spake,  saying:  "Hapless  one, 
wherefore  is  Poseidon,  shaker  of  the  earth,  so  wroth 
with  thee?  Yet  shall  he  not  make  a  full  end  of  thee 
for  all  his  desire.  Do  even  as  I  tell  thee.  Cast  off 
these  garments,  and  leave  the  raft  to  drift  before  the 
winds,  but  do  thou  swim  with  thine  hands  and  win  a 
footing  on  the  coast  of  the  Phaeacians,  whither  it  is 
decreed  thou  shalt  escape.  Here,  take  this  veil  im 
mortal  and  wind  it  about  thy  breast;  so  is  there  no 
fear  that  thou  perish.  But  when  thou  hast  laid  hold 
of  the  mainland  with  thy  hands,  loose  the  veil  from  off 
thee,  and  cast  it  into  the  wine-dark  deep  far  from  the 
land,  and  thyself  turn  away." 

With  that  the  goddess  gave  the  veil,  and  dived  back 
into  the  heaving  deep,  like  a  sea-gull;  and  the  dark 
wave  closed  over  her.  And  I,  too,  casting  off  my  gar 
ments  and  winding  the  veil  about  me,  plunged  into 
the  sea. 

NAUSICAA 

A  great  wave  bore  me  to  the  rugged  shore,  adown 
whose  rocks  a  brook  fell  foaming  into  the  sea.  And 
all  my  bones  would  have  been  broken  had  not  Athene 
put  a  thought  into,  my  heart.  I  sprang  forward  of 


42  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

,the  wave  with  all  my  strength,  and  grasped  a  rock,  and 
clung  thereto  with  hands  and  knees,  till  the  surge  beat 
against  my  back,  sorely  crushing  me,  but  not  loosing 
my  grasp.  And,  ere  it  returned,  I  clambered  upon 
the  rock  and  crawled  to  the  green  shore  beyond. 

And  when  my  breath  returned,  I  loosed  from  my 
bruised  limbs  the  sodden  veil  of  the  sea-goddess,  and 
hurled  it  with  all  the  strength  left  in  me  far  out  upon 
the  billow.  And  I  turned  ere  it  alighted,  and  fell 
upon  the  earth,  and  kissed  it,  the  grain-giver,  and  gave 
thanks  to  the  kindly  goddess  who  had  braved  the 
wrath  of  her  overlord  and  saved  me  from  the  sea. 

Then,  because  I  was  naked,  I  dragged  my  weary 
limbs  into  a  thick  coppice  near  a  pool  in  the  brook, 
and  I  fell  into  slumber,  long  and  deep. 

Now  Nausicaa,  princess  of  that  land,  came  with 
her  maidens  to  the  pool  to  wash  the  soiled  linen  of  the 
palace.  And,  when  they  had  cleansed  all  the  stains, 
they  spread  the  cloths  on  the  green  bank  to  dry,  and 
fell  to  playing  at  ball  in  the  fair  meadow  beyond. 
And  the  goddess  Athene  put  it  in  the  heart  of  the 
princess  to  throw  the  ball  at  one  of  her  company,  so 
that  it  fell  into  the  pool  where  the  current  was  pour 
ing  over  the  rocks  into  the  sea.  And  all  the  maidens 
raised  a  piercing  cry  to  see  the  end  of  their  pleasure, 
so  that  I  awoke.  Glad  was  I  to  hear  the  sound  of 
human  voices,  and,  breaking  a  leafy  bough  from  the 
thick  wood,  and  holding  it  athwart  my  body  to  hide 
my  nakedness,  I  stepped  from  the  coppice  fain  to 
draw  nigh  to  the  fair-tressed  maidens.  But  I  was 
terrible  in  their  eyes,  being  marred  with  the  salt  sea, 
and  they  fled  cowering.  And  the  daughter  of 


THE  VISIONS  OF  PENELOPE  43 

Alcinoiis  alone  stood  firm,  for  Athene  gave  her  courage 
of  heart  and  took  away  all  trembling  from  her  limbs. 
So  she  halted  and  stood  over  against  me. 

And  I  thought  within  myself  that  it  were  better  to 
stand  apart  and  beseech  her  with  smooth  words  lest 
the  maiden  should  be  angered  with  me  if  I  touched  her 
knees  in  supplication.  So  I  spake  a  sweet  and  cun 
ning  word :  ' '  I  supplicate  thee,  0  queen,  whether  thou 
art  a  goddess  or  a  mortal !  If  thou  art  indeed  of  them 
that  keep  the  wide  heaven,  to  Artemis  would  I  liken 
thee  for  beauty  and  stature  and  shapeliness;  but  if 
thou  art  of  the  daughters  of  earth,  thrice  blessed  are 
thy  father  and  lady  mother  and  thy  brethern.  Sure 
ly  their  souls  glow  with  gladness  each  time  they  see 
thee  entering  the  dance,  so  fair  a  flower  of  maidens! 
But  he  is  of  heart  blessed  beyond  all  others  who  shall 
prevail  with  gifts  of  wooing,  and  lead  thee  to  his  home. 
Yesterday  I  escaped  after  many  perils  from  the  wine- 
dark  deep  to  this  shore,  where  I  know  no  man.  Naked, 
and  wounded  sore  by  the  waves,  I  beseech  thee  to  give 
me  a  wrap  from  thy  store  of  linen,  and  show  me  the 
way  to  the  town  where  I  may  obtain  succour.  And 
may  the  gods  grant  thee  all  thy  heart's  desire:  a 
noble  husband  and  a  home,  and  a  mind  at  one  with  his 
—  a  good  gift,  for  there  is  nothing  nobler  than  when 
man  and  wife  are  of  one  mind  in  a  house,  a  great  joy 
to  their  friends,  though  their  own  hearts  know  it 
best." 

Then  Nausicaa  of  the  white  arms  answered  me,  and 
said:  " Stranger,  forasmuch  as  thou  seemest  no  evil 
man  nor  foolish  —  and  it  is  Zeus  that  giveth  or  with- 
holdeth  weal  as  he  will  —  now  that  thou  hast  come  to 


44  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

our  land,  thou  shalt  not  lack  raiment,  or  aught  else 
that  is  the  due  of  a  hapless  suppliant.  And  I  will 
show  thee  the  town,  and  name  the  name  of  the  people : 
the  Phaeacians  hold  this  city  and  land,  and  I  am  the 
daughter  of  Alcinoiis,  great  of  heart,  on  whom  all  the 
might  and  welfare  of  the  Phaeacians  depend. ' ' 

Then  she  called  to  her  maidens,  and  bade  them  fetch 
me  raiment  and  olive-oil  for  the  anointing  of  my 
bruises.  And  when  they  had  brought  them,  I  bade 
the  maidens  to  stand  apart,  while  I  bathed  in  the  pool 
and  anointed  my  body  with  the  oil,  and  put  on  the  gar 
ment.  And  Athene  made  me  great  and  mighty  to  be 
hold,  causing  from  my  head  deep  curling  locks  to  flow 
like  the  hyacinth  flower,  so  that,  when  I  stepped  forth 
among  the  maidens,  the  princess  marvelled  at  me,  and 
said  to  her  maidens :  ' '  Would  that  such  an  one  might 
be  called  my  husband,  and  that  it  might  please  him 
here  to  abide!  But  come,  give  the  stranger  meat  and 
drink." 

And  when  I  was  refreshed,  the  princess  brought  me 
to  the  goodly  house  of  her  father,  where  I  abode  many 
days  honoured  as  I  had  been  a  god  who  came  in  the 
guise  of  a  stranger  guest. 

Day  after  day  we  spent  in  hunting  the  wild  beasts 
and  in  many  games,  but  ever  did  I  turn  my  head  to 
the  splendour  of  the  sun,  being  fain  to  hasten  its  set 
ting.  And  when  my  longing  to  return  to  my  native 
land  became  too  strong  to  be  overcome,  Alcinotis  gave 
me  lordly  gifts,  and  sent  me  on  my  way  to  Ithaca  in 
a  tall  ship  with  many  rowers. 

And  Nausicaa,  dowered  with  beauty  by  the  gods, 
bade  me  farewell,  saying  sadly :  ' '  When  thou  comest 


THE   VISIONS  OF  PENELOPE  45 

into  thine  own  country,  noble  Odysseus,  bethink  thee 
at  times,  I  pray  thee,  of  the  maid  who  met  thee  kindly 
when  thou  earnest  in  thy  need  to  the  Phaeacian  shore. ' ' 
And  I  answered  her  from  the  fullness  of  my  heart : 
"Nausicaa,  daughter  of  great-hearted  Alcinoiis,  if 
Zeus  grant  me  to  reach  my  home,  there  shall  I  worship 
thee  as  a  goddess  all  my  days  forevermore,  for  thou 
has  given  me  my  life." 

THE  LANDING   OF  ODYSSEUS   AT   ITHACA 

There  is  in  the  land  of  Ithaca  a  certain  haven  of 
Phorcys.  Now  at  the  harbour's  head  is  a  long-leaved 
olive  tree,  and  hard  by  is  a  pleasant  cave  and  shadowy, 
sacred  to  the  nymphs  that  are  called  the  Naiads. 
Thither  did  the  Phaeacian  seamen  let  drive  their  ship ; 
and  now  the  vessel  in  full  course  ran  ashore,  half  her 
keel's  length  high.  Howbeit,  I  was  asleep.  So  they 
alighted  from  the  benched  ship  upon  the  land,  and 
first  they  lifted  me  from  out  the  hollow  ship,  all  as  I 
was  in  a  sheet  of  linen  and  the  bright  rug,  and  laid 
me  yet  heavy  with  slumber  on  the  sand.  And  then 
they  brought  forth  the  goods  which  great-hearted 
Alcinoiis  had  given  me  on  my  homeward  way,  and 
set  them  in  hiding  within  an  olive  copse  a  little  aside 
from  the  strand  lest  some  wayfaring  man,  before  I 
awakened,  should  come  and  spoil  them.  Then  the  sea 
men  departed  to  fair  Phaeacia  with  gently  moving 
oars. 

THE  TRANSFORMATION  OF  ODYSSEUS 

Then  Athene  came  nigh  me  in  the  guise  of  a  herds 
man,  a  young  man  most  delicate,  such  as  are  the 


46  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

sons  of  kings.  And  she  had  a  well-wrought  mantle 
that  fell  in  two  folds  about  her  shoulders,  and  a  jav 
elin  in  her  hand. 

And  she  did  touch  me  sleeping  with  her  spear,  so 
that  I  started  up.  And  I  spake  to  the  stranger  winged 
words,  yet  did  not  utter  the  truth,  but  wrested  my 
words  into  guile.  Well  I  wot  that  I  was  in  Ithaca,  for 
looking  about  I  saw  the  cave  and  harbour,  dear  to  my 
boyhood.  So  I  dissembled  and  said:  " Friend,  since 
thou  art  the  first  I  have  chanced  on  in  this  land, 
hail  to  thee!  Tell  me  truly  what  land  is  this,  what 
men  dwell  therein?" 

And  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  answered: 
"Thou  art  witless,  stranger,  or  thou  art  come  from 
afar,  if  indeed  thou  askest  of  this  land;  since  the 
deeds  of  its  prince  Odysseus  have  made  it  famed 
even  unto  the  far  land  of  Troy." 

And  I  was  glad  at  the  words  of  the  herdsman,  yet 
still  dissembled.  "Of  Ithaca  have  I  heard  tell,  even 
in  broad  Crete,  whence  I  have  been  outlawed  for  slay 
ing  (though  it  was  by  sad  mishap)  the  dear  son  of 
Idomeneus,  king  of  that  country.  I  fled  to  a  Phoeni 
cian  ship  in  the  harbour  about  to  sail  for  Carthage. 
Driven  by  a  storm  we  landed  on  these  strange  shores, 
where  we  rested  our  worn  bodies  with  sweet  sleep. 
Fearing,  perchance,  that  I  was  bringing  on  them  the 
anger  of  the  gods,  they  have  stolen  away  while  I 
remained  in  slumber.  Look!  there  is  their  ship  in 
the  offing!" 

So  I  spake,  and  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene, 
smiled,  and  caressed  me  with  her  hand;  and  straight 
way  she  changed  to  the  semblance  of  a  woman,  fair 


THE   VISIONS   OF   PENELOPE  47 

and  tall.  And  uttering  her  voice  she  spake  to  me 
winged  words: 

''Crafty  must  he  be  who  would  outdo  thee  in  all 
manner  of  guile,  even  if  it  were  a  god  encountered 
thee!  So  thou  wast  not  even  in  thine  own  country  to 
cease  from  thy  sleights  and  knavish  words,  which  thou 
lovest  from  the  bottom  of  thy  heart !  Yet  thou  knew- 
est  not  me,  Pallas  Athene,  who  am  always  by  thee  and 
guard  thee  in  all  thy  adventures.  And  now  I  am  come 
hither  to  contrive  a  plot  with  thee.  For  thou  hast 
still  to  endure  much  sorrow,  submitting  thee  to  the 
despite  of  men.  In  thine  absence  many  powerful 
lords  sue  for  the  hand  of  thy  wife,  saying  that  thou 
art  dead.  But  she  remains  true  to  thee,  and  awaits 
thy  coming,  deceiving  the  wooers  with  a  guile  worthy 
of  thee  her  husband.  Come,  let  me  disguise  thee,  that 
none  shall  know  thee  while  thou  waitest  in  the  hut  of 
faithful  Eumaeus,  the  swineherd,  until  I  summon  to 
thine  aid  thy  dear  son  Telemachus. ' ' 

Therewith  Athene  touched  me  with  her  wand.  My 
fair  flesh  she  withered  on  my  supple  limbs,  and  made 
waste  my  yellow  hair  from  off  my  head,  and  over  all 
my  limbs  she  cast  the  skin  of  an  old  man,  and  dimmed 
my  twTo  eyes,  erewhile  so  fair.  And  she  changed  my 
raiment  to  a  vile  wrap  and  a  doublet,  torn  garments 
and  filthy,  stained  with  foul  smoke.  And  over  all 
she  clad  me  with  the  great  bald  hide  of  a  swift  stag, 
and  she  gave  me  a  staff  and  a  mean  tattered  scrip,  and 
a  cord  therewith  to  hang  it. 

ARGOS 
And  when  I  came  to  the  swineherd's  hut,  lo!  a 


48  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

hound  raised  up  his  head  from  where  he  lay,  and 
pricked  his  ears  —  Argos,  the  watch-dog  which  of  old 
myself  had  bred.  Now  was  his  master  gone  and  he 
lay  out  in  the  deep  dung  of  mules  and  kine  full  of 
vermin.  Yet  even  now  when  he  saw  me,  standing  by 
in  the  beggar's  guise  as  I  was,  he  wagged  his  tail  and 
dropped  both  his  ears,  but  nearer  to  me  he  had  not 
the  strength  to  draw. 

I  looked  aside  and  wiped  away  a  tear.  But  upon 
Argos  came  the  fate  of  black  death  even  in  the  hour 
that  he  beheld  me,  his  dear  master,  again  in  the 
twentieth  year. 


Act  II 

THE  SLAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUITORS 

As  the  last  vision  is  fading  away  Penelope  starts 
up  from  her  trance,  and  holds  out  her  hands  toward 
the  place  where  Odysseus  had  appeared. ,  The  morning 
light  increases. 

PENELOPE 

ODYSSEUS,  my  lord,   'tis  I  —  oh  stay, 
Odysseus!  —  Penelope,  who  calls, 
Thy  loving  wife!  Oh,  let  us  flee  away 

Together  from  the  horror  of  these  halls! 
Ah,  no,  'tis  but  another  fantasy  — 
Again  the  cruel  gods  are  mocking  me. 

Again  they  mock  —  yet  hold,  my  heart,  be  still ! 

Never  before  have  all  my  broken  dreams 
Been  threaded  through  with  his  unfaltering  will  — 

My  lord's  brave  spirit!     Vision  true  it  seems, 
As  if  his  soul  had  bended  heaven  and  hell 
The  tidings  of  his  coming  home  to  tell. 

Oft  have  I  seen  him  in  my  troubled  sleep 
Upon  the  field  of  battle  wounded  sore, 

Or  sinking  in  the  unfathomable  deep, 
Or  naked  cast  upon  a  desert  shore, 

Yet  ne'er  till  now,  wherever  he  might  roam, 

So  plainly  coming  ever  nearer  home. 

[49] 


50  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

Home,  home  at  last!  yet  oh,  so  worn  and  old! 

So  weary,  worn  and  old,  and  piteous  poor! 
My  husband,  let  my  loving  arms  enfold 

Thy  dear  gray  head,  my  toil-worn  fingers  cure 
Thy  bruises,  and  thy  tattered  garments  mend; 
My  weak  limbs  walk  with  thine  until  the  end. 

For  I  would  flee  out  of  this  troubled  land 
To  quiet  shores;  surely  the  gods  will  smile 

To  see  us  wander  hand  in  loving  hand, 
And  lay  aside  their  wrath  a  little  while, 

Granting  to  us,  poor  beggars  twain,  surcease 

Of  sorrow  that  we  close  our  lives  in  peace. 

Peace?  nay,  not  such  would  my  Odysseus  crave; 

Shame  on  my  woman 's  weakness !    Let  the  wife 
Be  worthy  of  her  husband,  ne'er  so  brave 

As  in  disaster;  let  me  rule  my  life 
By  his  hereafter.    Well  his  word  I  know: 
" Prepare  ye  for  my  hand  my  spear  and  bow." 

Penelope  claps  her  hands.     Enter  Eurynome  and 
Eurycleia. 

PENELOPE 

To  Eurynome:  / 

Go,  fetch  my  maidens. 

EURYNOME 

With  their  distaffs? 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS          51 

PENELOPE 

Nay; 

The  time  of  spinning  has  forever  passed ; 
Know  that  for  me  the  inevitable  day 

Has  dawned  —  the  day  to  choose  my  lord  —  at  last, 
Yet  ill  it  is  to  yield  without  a  fight; 
So  bring  the  maids  for  mimic  war  bedight. 

And  do  thou  fetch  with  thee  the  mighty  spear 
Odysseus  left  with  me,  when  forth  to  Troy 

He  fared;  whose  sight  made  all  his  foemen  fear 
Its  wielder's  prowess.    Haply  its  employ 

E  'en  now  with  dread  may  chill  the  suitor  throng. 

Go,  bid  thy  maidens  raise  the  hunting  song. 

Exit  Eurynome. 

To  Eurycleia: 

My  duty  calls  me  hence.    I  shall  prepare, 
Dear  Eurycleia,  for  a  fray  more  stern; 

Thou  knowest  well  what  labor  is  my  care, 
And  with  me  wilt  conspire.     Till  my  return 

The  maidens  mocking  battle  to  prolong, 

Summon  thine  ancient  lore  of  tale  and  song. 

Often,  dear  nurse,  hast  thou  the  story  told 
How,  ere  I  knew  him,  young  Odysseus  went 

To  see  Autolycus,  his  grandsire  old, 

And  with  his  uncles  twain  clomb  the  ascent 

Of  high  Parnassus,  hunting  the  wild  boar 

Within  its  brakes.    Recount  the  tale  once  more. 

Exit  Penelope. 


52  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

Enter  Eurynome  in  the  guise  of  a  huntress,  bear 
ing  the  great  spear  of  Odysseus,  with  Maidens,  begirt 
for  the  chase,  and  equipped  with  lesser  spears. 

Eurynome  gives  the  spear  to  Eurycleia. 

CHORUS 
THE  HUNTING  OF  THE  BOAR 

EURYCLEIA 

On  the  mountain  side 
Overlooking  the  meadows, 
The  cornlands  fair, 
The  peopled  shore  — 
The  fields  of  his  ravage  — 
Where  thick  boughs  hide 
His  gray  form  in  shadows, 
He  maketh  his  lair: 
The  robber  hoar, 
The  foe  of  the  farmer,  the  mighty,  the  savage  — 

MAIDENS 
Boar,  the  wild  boar! 

EURYCLEIA 

In  silence  profound 
He  keepeth  his  watch ; 
Like  red  coals  gleaming 
His  small  eyes  are; 
His  prickt  ears  catch 
The  distant  sound; 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS          53 

He  snuffeth  the  gale 
With  scent  of  men  streaming 
Up  from  the  vale  — 
The   wild   boar   alert,   ever   ready    for   war! 

MAIDENS 

The   boar,   the   boar;    he   is   ready   for   war! 

EURYCLEIA 

Anon  he  descrieth 
Foes  on  his  track! 
The  boarhounds  bay; 
Beaters  are  tramping 
Through  thickets  dense; 
A  huntsman  crieth 
"Halloo!"  while  a  whistle 
Soundeth  "  Aback !~" 
The  wild  boar  awaiteth  the  fray : 
His  white  teeth  are  champing; 
His  muscles  tense 
Set  all  abristle 
His  ridged  chine; 
With  fierce  rage  of  battle  his  red  eyes  shine. 

MAIDENS 

Beware,  beware, 

When  the  boar's  teeth  champ, 

And  his  fierce  eyes  shine! 

Take  care,  take  care, 

When  you  see,  as  a  sign 


54  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

Of  his  rage,  the  ridged  bristles 
Arise  on  his  spine! 

EURYCLEIA 

The  dogs  ring  round 
The  coppice  dread; 
To  enter  they  fear  — 
Afresh  burn  their  olden 
Scars  at  the  sight. 
Fierce  challenge  they  sound. 
The  beaters  draw  near 
With  timorous  tread 
And  clubs  forward  hoi  den 
Ready  for  flight, 
Awaiting  a  spearman  to  lead  to  the  fight. 

MAIDENS 

Who  cometh,  who  cometh 
With  spear  keen  and  bright, 
Faint  hearts  to  embolden 
With  courage  to  fight? 

EURYCLEIA 

A  youth  debonair! 

Forward  springing 

The  beaters7  line  through, 

The  hounds  in  loud  cry 

Aside  he  spurneth, 

And  faceth  the  wild  boar's  lair. 

Backward  flinging 


SLAUGHTER    OF   THE    SUITORS          55 

His  chlamys  blue, 
He  lifteth  on  high, 

Till  bright  in  the  sun  the  bronze  point  burneth, 
This  spear,  that  I  hardly  can  raise  — 
Where  is  the  man  who  can  wield  it 
In  these  degenerate  days? 

MAIDENS 

Odysseus!  him  dost  thou  praise. 

None  other  could  wield 

In  forest  or  field 

The  weapon  thou  hardly  canst  raise. 

EURYCLEIA 

Stir  in  the  bushes, 
A  peal  of  ire! 
The  wild  boar  emergeth 
Battle  to  wage  — 
He  knoweth  his  peer! 
Frothed  are  his  tushes; 
His  eyes  flash  fire; 
His  whole  body  surgeth 
With  war's  fell  rage. 
He  rusheth  upon  the  spear. 
What  weapon  shall  stay 
The   furious   charge   of   a   wild   boar   at   bay? 

MAIDENS 

The  wild  boar  at  bay! 
What  man  without  fear 


56  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

To  oppose  will  essay 
The  fury  that  urgeth 
A  boar  to  the  fray  ? 

EURYCLEIA 

Odysseus  unf earing 

Awaiteth  the  charge; 

At  the  boar's  side 

He  aimeth  a  blow ; 

But  slight  is  the  wound, 

For  tough  to  the  spearing 

As  a  warrior's  targe 

Is  the  lean  beast's  hide, 

And  the  boar,  driving  on  at  his  foe, 

Beareth  him   down  to  the  ground. 

MAIDENS 

Ai,  ai,  the  maddening  wound! 

If  the  great  spear  fail 

The  hero  brave 

In  the  wild  boar's  rush, 

What  might  shall  avail, 

What  godhead  save 

From  the  fierce  beast's  tush 

Odysseus  borne  to  the  ground? 

EURYCLEIA 

The  raging  boar 
In  headlong  career 
With  sharp  tusk  rippeth 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS          57 

Odysseus'  knee; 

It  breaketh  no  bone, 

But  the  blood  runneth  free. 

At  sight  of  the  gore 

Aloud  cry  the  huntsmen  in  fear. 

Odysseus  giveth  no  groan, 

But  only  more  tightly  he  grippeth 

The  haft  of  his  great  boar-spear. 

MAIDENS 

The  man  without  fear! 
Though  overthrown, 
Though  wounded  sore, 
He  maketh  no  moan, 
But  to  his  feet  leapeth, 
And,  grasping  his  spear, 
Again  he  awaiteth  the  boar. 

EURYCLEIA 

The  wild  beast,  burning 

With  rage  and  pain, 

His  course  sharply  turning, 

Rusheth  amain 

Again  to  the  fight; 

But  ready  his  foe  is; 

Odysseus  lungeth 

With  his  full  might; 

His  great  spear  he  plungeth 

Deep  in  the  boar's  head. 

So  piercing  the  blow  is 


58  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

It  reacheth  the  brain, 

And  felleth  the  fierce  beast  dead. 

MAIDENS 

The  boar  falleth  dead 

Transfixed  by  the  spear! 

Never  again 

Shall  he  ravage  the  plain, 

Holding  the  farmers  in  fear. 

Hail  to  the  hero  who  banished  their  dread, 

For  deeds  like  this  ever  dear ! 

EURYCLEIA 

Autolycus'  sons 

Run  swift  to  his  side; 

Their  garments  tearing, 

They  staunch  at  once 

The  black  blood's  tide; 

Then,  in  arms  upbearing 

The  youth  aswound, 

Still  to  the  spear  clinging, 

A  chant  they  raise, 

Handed  down  from  the  former  days, 

That  healeth  the  huntsman's  wound; 

And  home  they  bear  him  with  singing. 

MAIDENS 

They  bear  along 

The  youth  with  song 

The  blood's  dark  flow  congealing. 


SLAUGHTER   OF  THE   SUITORS          59 

Oh,  who  shall  sound 
For  our  country's  wound 
The  ancient  chant  of  healing? 

EURYCLEIA 

In  our  fair  land, 

Ithaca  old, 

Since  the  lord  of  it, 

Odysseus  brave, 

To  the  war  departed, 

The  wild  beasts  raven 

In  fruitful  field, 

In  teeming  fold, 

For  lack  of  a  hand 

His  spear  to  wield, 

For  want  of  a  wit 

His  scepter  to  hold, 

His  realm  to  save  — 

Robbers,  boar-hearted, 

Insolent,  craven 

Since  none  their  force  may  defy; 

Spoilers  swine-souled, 

Who  make  of  our  palace  a  sty. 

MAIDENS 

Ouai! 

With  hearts  of  boars 

Our  prayers  they  scorn ; 

They  trample  all  day 

Our  standing  corn, 

Since  none  there  is  to  withstay; 


60  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

With  souls  of  swine 
They  enter  our  doors, 
And  nightlong  wallow  in  wine. 

EURYCLEIA 

With  fields  uprooted, 

His  land  laid  waste, 

Our  prince  is  shamed, 

Telemachus  young, 

In  brave  heart  royal, 

Though  maiden  his  sword. 

In  palace  polluted 

Our  queen  is  disgraced  - 

Penelope  famed 

Where  'er  praise  is  sung 

Of  wifehood  loyal 

To  a  lost  lord. 

With  song  alone  to  defend  her, 

In  this  her  day  of  surrender, 

Come,  let  us  our  solace  afford. 

MAIDENS 

The  comfort  that  women  tender 

May  give,  shall  her  maidens  afford; 

The  help  in  our  hearts  we  shall  lend  her 

In  the  hour  she  chooseth  her  lord. 

Mayhap  our  love 

At  last  shall  prove 

A  mighty  shield  to  defend  her, 

Our  song  a  sharp  sword. 


SLAUGHTER    OF   THE   SUITORS          61 

SONG* 

THE  WOMAN  's  KINGDOM 
CHLORIS 

When  the  age  of  the  soul  began 
God  gave  the  earth  to  man 

To  subdue  it  with  strength  and  will 
According  to  His  plan  — 

And  the  world  is  a  man's  world  still: 
A  sad  world,  a  mad  world  — 
It  never  will  be  a  glad  world 
Till  time  the  purpose  fulfil. 

To  strengthen  him  in  the  strife 
God  gave  the  man  a  wife 

To  do  what  he  might  ask, 
To  center  in  him  her  life  — 
This  still  is  the  woman's  task: 
A  drear  lot,  severe  lot, 
And  yet  withal  a  dear  lot 
Since  Love  wears  Service'  mask. 

The  land,  the  sea,  the  air 
To  conquer  is  man's  care 

With  plow  and  keel  and  plane; 
Small  is  the  woman's  share, 
The  home  is  her  domain: 
A  mean  rule,  unseen  rule, 
Yet  here  she  may  as  queen  rule 
O'er  man  in  Spirit's  reign. 

*This  may  be  omitted,   if  deemed  too  modern  in  tone.     Its 
moral  is  that  of  the   succeeding  chorus. 


62  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

With  courage  does  she  gird 
Her  lord  as  with  a  sword ; 

With  helm  of  honor  bright 
And  shield  of  loyal  word 
She  arms  him  in  her  might : 
Though  tearful  and  fearful 
At  heart,  with  bearing  cheerful 
She  sends  him  forth  to  fight. 

And  when  man's  work  is  done, 
His  war  with  nature  won, 

Then  shall  the  woman  shine 
Enthroned  in  the  sun  — 

Her  soul  of  faith  the  shrine: 
Her  spirit  inherit 
The  rule  of  earth,  to  share  it 
With  man  in  Love  divine! 

Penelope  enters  in  the  guise  of  Artemis,  and  takes 
the  spear  of  Odysseus  from  Eurycleia. 

CHORUS 

THE  WEAPON  OP  THE  SPIRIT 
PENELOPE 

The  soul  of  the  spear 

Is  the  soul  of  its  bearer, 

The  warrior  dread ; 

Its  strength  is  his  strength, 

Its  purpose  his  will; 

His  spirit  shines  clear 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS          63 

In  radiant  terror 
From  bronze-pointed  head; 
The  ash-shafted  length 
With  his  rage  is  a-thrill, 
The   blood-lust    of   battle,   the   passion    to    kill. 

MAIDENS 

The  spear,  the  spear ! 
Though  dread  it  appear, 
'Tis  the  spirit  behind  it 
That  points  it  with  fear. 

PENELOPE 

The  long,  level  line 
Of  spearmen  surges 
Like  a  glittering  wave 
Assaulting  the  strand; 
Resistless  in  might 
The  keen  points  shine, 
And  the  foemen  brave, 
Though  his  high  heart  urges 
Him  stoutly  to  stand, 
Betakes  him  to  flight, 
And  bloodless  the  spear  is  borne  back  from  the  fight. 

MAIDENS 

The  spear,  the  spear! 
The  weapon  of  fear, 
Returns  from  the  quarrel 
With  point  gleaming  clear. 


64  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

The  spear,  the  spear! 

It  is  never  so  dear 

As  when,  wreathed  in  laurel, 

No  blood  doth  appear. 

PENELOPE 

A  weapon  strong 
Is  man  that  the  Spirit 
Hath  shaped  to  her  hand; 
Thrilled  are  we  through 
With  her  purpose  as  flame, 
The  hosts  of  Wrong 
Know  it  and  fear  it ; 
Will  gives  the  command, 
Hers  is  the  due, 
Yet  Strength  reaps  the  fame, 
Or,  failing,  he  casts  upon  Spirit  the  blame. 

MAIDENS 

We  welcome  the  blame; 
Be  Spirit  '&  the  shame 
If  she  point  not  the  weapon 
The  tyrant  to  tame. 

PENELOPE 

The  spirit  of  man 
Is  regnant  in  Woman; 
Her  mind  is  its  throne, 
Her  heart  is  the  shrine 
Of  its  sacred  fire. 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS          65 

The    Soul   of   the   Clan, 
She  flies  on  the  foeman 
Protecting  her  own  — 
A  vision  divine 
And   portent   dire 
Courage   to    hearten    and    fear   to   inspire. 


MAIDENS 

We  burn  with  the  fire; 
The  spear  of  his  sire 
To  Telemachus  give; 
We  his  soul  would  inspire. 

There  is  an  uproar  in  the  central  hall,  and 
Telemachus  in  princely  attire  enters,  accompanied  by 
Odysseus  in  the  garb  of  a  beggar.  At  the  sight  of  the 
latter  Penelope  is  dazed  for  a  moment,  and  then, 
recalling  the  vision  in  which  her  husband  appeared  in 
the  same  guise,  she  starts  forward  as  if  to  throw  her 
self  at  his  feet,  and  cries : 

My  lord! 


Odysseus  frowns  warningly,  and  Penelope  turns 
to  Telemachus  as  if  it  were  he  whom  she  has  addressed, 
and  continues : 

My  son,  for  thou  shalt  take  the  place 
To-day  of  him  who  was  my  spirit 's  prop, 
Whose  soul  e'en  now  is  shining  in  thy  face, 
Come,  play  thy  father;  take  this  weapon  — 


66  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

TELEMACHUS 

in  lordly  manner: 

Stop, 

Impetuous  woman !  though  my  time  is  near 
It  has  not  come;  give  to  our  guest  the  spear, 

For,  worn  with  wandering  he  hath  no  staff, 
A  warrior  old,  his  hand  is  weaponless; 

Penelope  hands  the  spear  to  Odysseus. 
He  is  athirst;  the  wine-cup  let  him  quaff. 

Penelope  looks  at  Eurynome  inquiringly,  who  shakes 
her  head  in  a  gesture  of  negation  which  Penelope 
sadly  repeats  to  Telemachus. 

Bring  water,  then,  for  sore  is  his  distress, 
Water  in  ewer  as  well  as  cup,  to  lave 
His  soiled  feet.    He  was  a  comrade  brave 

Of  great  Odysseus,  when  the  Trojan  wall 
He  breached  with  guile ;  a  fellow  of  his  band 

Of  bold  sea-rovers,  who  on  Ilium's  fall 

Sought  with  stout  hearts  to  win  their  native  land 

Against  the  purpose  of  Poseidon  fell. 

Refreshed,  our  guest  the  moving  tale  shall  tell. 

PENELOPE 

Nay,  son   (if  still  with  me  some  empire  lies 
O'er  woman's  realm),  I  would  thy  charge  amend: 

Let  him  not  bare  his  scars  to  curious  eyes; 
A  reverent  hand  his  bruised  feet  shall  tend 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE    SUITORS          67 

Within  my  chamber.    As  an  honored  guest, 
Yes,  as  my  lord  himself,  there  shall  he  rest. 

Eurynome  comes  forward  to  conduct  Odysseus  to 
Penelope's  chamber.  Penelope  objects: 

Not  thine,  housemistress,  though  for  ready  zeal 
We  hold  thee  dear,  shall  be  this  sacred  task. 

She  addresses  Odysseus. 

If  thou  wouldst  deign  to  elder  eyes  reveal 
Thy  limbs,  let  me  — 

Odysseus  frowns  in  dissent  at  the  idea  of  her  per 
forming  the  service,  and  she  adroitly  turns  the 
reference. 

—  old  Eurycleia  ask 
Odysseus  nods  assent. 

To  do  this  service,  once  accounted  sweet 
When  eve  brought  bedward  little  dusty  feet. 

For  when  Odysseus  ran  a  romping  boy, 

Or  as  a  youth  came  wounded  from  the  chase, 

She  was  his  nurse.     Still  she  recounts  with  joy 
His  features  fair  and  lithe  young  body's  grace; 

For,  though  with  creeping  age  her  eyes  are  dim, 

Her  memory  holds  him  clear  in  line  and  limb  — 

Ay,  every  mark  upon  his  body  white 
Of  marring  mole  or  ridged  ruddy  scar. 


68  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

Wearied  of  life,  she  prays  but  for  the  sight 
Of  her  dear  master  coming  from  the  war, 
That  she  once  more  may  lave  his  feet,  and  kiss 
His  ancient  wounds,  and  so  may  die  in  bliss. 

Go  then,  good  Eurycleia,  and  attend 

Our  guest,  as  if  he  were  indeed  thy  lord, 

Mayhap  the  gods,  who  see  us  thus  befriend 
The  needy  stranger,  may  their  grace  accord 

That  other  hearts  be  softened  to  entreat 

Our  wanderer  with  charity  as  sweet. 

Eurycleia  conducts  from  the  scene  the  limping 
Odysseus  who  pauses  to  hand  the  spear  to  Penelope, 
as  the  occasion  of  addressing  her  a  few  words  inaudi 
ble  to  all  save  herself.  After  his  departure  Penelope 
addresses  the  house-mistress: 

And  thou  Eurynome,  to  cheer  the  heart 

Of  my  shamed  son,  who  for  his  mother's  sake 

Foregoes  desire  to  play  a  prince's  part 

And  lead  his  folk  against  their  spoilers,  take 

Thy  maidens  fair,  and  a  new  dance  array: 

The  Race  of  Atalanta  let  them  play. 

CHORUS 

THE  FOOT  RACE 

EURYNOME 

What  slender  youth 
His  body  bareth 
To  enter  the  race, 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS          69 

The  arduous  toil 

Of  the  circling  track? 

Strong  is  he,  in  sooth, 

Though  the  aspect  he  weareth, 

In  beardless  face, 

In   hairless  breast, 

In  smooth-muscled  back, 

Still  of  a  boy. 

Telemachus  advances,  and  throwing  off  his  cloak, 
stands  nude,  save  for  his  sandals  and  a  loin-cloth.  He 
assumes  the  pose  of  "Mercury  Belvedere." 

MAIDENS 

Eia,  iavoi! 

We  hail  with  joy 

And  welcome  warm 

The  runner  whose  form 

Hath  the  strength  of  a  man 

And  the  grace  of  a  boy  - 

Eia,  iavoi! 

EURYNOME 

To  prepare  for  the  task 
He  taketh  the  flask 
That  athletes  aye  bear, 
And  with  oil  doth  anoint 
Each  muscle  and  joint 
With  sedulous  care; 
Then  he  kneadeth  the  skin 
Till  the  oil  is  rubbed  in, 


70  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

And  his  body  gleameth 

With  the  healthy  glow 

Of  the  blood's  quickened  flow, 

Till  a  young  god  he  seemeth 

In  beauty  rare  — 

Hermes  the  fair, 

The  herald  slender, 

Swift  in  the  race. 

Telemachus  takes  from  the  folds  of  his  cloaks  an 
oil-flask  and  anoints  his  body,  kneading  it  thereafter. 
At  the  close  he  assumes  the  pose  of  the  bronze  Mercury 
in  the  Naples  gallery. 

MAIDENS 

*  Iof  io! 

The  athlete  tender, 

In  form  and  in  face 

Lithe  Hermes  appeareth. 

Immortal  grace 

As  a  nimbus  he  weareth; 

Like  to  a  god  doth  he  show. 

Io! 

EURYNOME 

With  strigil  of  steel, 

Curved  to  fit 

The  muscles '  slope, 

He  scrapeth  the  oil 

From  each  supple  limb. 

New  strength  doth  he  feel; 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS          71 

His  face  is  alit 
With  victory 's  hope ; 
For  the  course 's  toil 
With  purpose  grim 
He  testeth  each  thew. 

MAIDENS 

lo,  eleleu! 

Telemachus  goes  to  his  cloak,  and  replacing  therein 
the  oil-flask,  takes  from  it  a  strigil,  with,  which  he 
scrapes  his  body,  at  the  end  assuming  the  pose  of 
"The  Athlete  with  the  Strigil."  "Replacing  the  strigil 
in  the  cloak,  he  then  exercises  the  muscles  of  his  limbs, 
breast,  and  back,  ending  with  the  pose  of  the  "Farnese 
Hercules. ' '  He  then  practises  the  running  stride,  end 
ing  with  the  pose  of  the  "Flying  Mercury." 

EURYNOME 

Who  is  it  advanceth 

To  vie  with  the  youth 

In  the  contest  of  speed? 

From  the  cheek's  brown  tan 

From  the  strength  displayed 

As  forward  she  pranceth, 

Ye  would  call  her,  in  sooth, 

A  rival  to  heed, 

Fit  match  for  a  man, 

This  muscled  maid; 

An  athlete  true! 


72  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

Dymas  fastens  forward  in  a  running  stride,  in  the 
guise  of  Atalanta.  Her  robe  is  begirt  for  running. 
She  assumes  the  pose  of  "Diana  in  the  Vatican." 

MAIDENS 

lo,  eleleu! 

As  the  champion  good 

Of  the  hardihood 

Of  our  sex  doth  she  show 

lo! 

EURYNOME 

Atalanta  the  swift, 

Ever  victorious! 

What  man  will  compete 

With  womanhood's  pride? 

Who  dareth  aspire 

To  conquer  the  maid? 

See  Hippomenes  smile, 

Serene,  unafraid, 

Since  the  golden  gift 

Of  Cypris  glorious, 

The  apples  sweet 

Of  fond  desire, 

In  his  hands  he  doth  hide 

The  maiden  to  wile. 

Telemachus  takes  from  his  cloak  two  golden  apples 
which  he  holds  in  his  hands. 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS          73 

MAIDENS 

No  fear  doth  he  know, 
Trusting  the  while 
In  the  gift  of  Cypris 
The  maid  to  beguile. 

Dymas  advances  toward  Telemachus.  Both  stand 
before  the  altar,  and  make  obeisance  to  the  goddess 
Artemis. 

EURYNOME 

Obeisance  due 

To  Dian  they  make, 

Patron  divine 

To  both  of  them  dear. 

MAIDENS 
lo,  eleleu! 

With  Dian,  we,  too, 
No  favor  would  show, 
lo!  io! 

The  contestants  advance  to  the  starting  line  and 
stand  side  by  side. 

EURYNOME 

Their  places  they  take 
At  the  starting  line, 
Nor  heed  they  our  cheer, 
To  their  purpose  true. 


74  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

MAIDENS 

lo,  eleleu! 

EURYNOME 

He  is  crouching  to  speed 

At  my  word,  but  no  heed 

Taketh  the  may, 

Her  rival  scorning; 

Then  One!  for  the  warning, 

Two,  Three,  and  away! 

MAIDENS 
lot  oe! 

The  contestants  spring  forward,  Telemachus  in  the 
lead. 

EURYNOME 

Forward  they  spring; 

The  man  in  the  lead  is 

By  a  stride's  length, 

His  impulse  like 

To  the  start  of  a  swallow; 

As  a  hawk  taketh  wing 

Slower  her  speed  is ; 

She  saveth  her  strength 

Till  the  time  to  strike, 

Yet  close  doth  she  follow; 

Forth  from  the  court  do  they  fly. 

During  this  recitation  the  runners  disappear  from 
the  scene  at  the  left  of  the  stage. 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS          75 

MAIDENS 

Oa,  ouai! 

We  cannot  descry 

The  course  o'er  the  white  sea  sand. 

Eurynome  dear, 

Climb  the  steps  high 

And  picture  to  us  the  swift  race. 

From  thee  let  us  hear, 

Let  us  see  in  thy  face, 

How  the  runners  appear  — 

Still  are  they  speeding  apace? 

Eurynome  ascends  the  steps,  and  gazes  after  the 
runners.  In  the  course  of  her  following  description 
she  turns  her  gaze  gradually  from  the  left  front  of  the 
stage  around  by  the  central  front  to  the  right. 

EURYNOMK 

Swift  is  the  man, 
Hippomenes  strong; 
With  mighty  stride 
On  the  maiden  gaining, 
He  forgeth  ahead; 
She,  as  she  began, 
Runneth  along, 
In  graceful  glide 
Her  strength  restraining 
Till  his  shall  have  sped  — 
The  champion  sly! 


76  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

MAIDENS 

Oa,  ouai! 

The  maiden,  disdaining 

With  confident  pride 

Her  rival,  is  feigning : 

Her  strength  doth  she  hide. 

EURYNOME 

Though  strong  yet  in  limb, 
Hippomenes  tireth; 
His  features  drawn 
His  failing  breath  show; 
But  his  purpose  grim 
His  heart  anew  fireth 
Ere   its   power   hath   gone, 
And,  enduring  the  strain, 
Still  on  doth  he  go. 

MAIDENS 

lo! 

When  mind  takes  the  rein 

The  body  its  master  doth  know. 

EURYNOME 

Atalanta  fleet, 

Hippomenes  after, 

As  the  stride  he  doth  slack, 

Forward  is  bounding 

Like  the  lithe  pard 

With  swiftness  and  grace 


SLAUGHTER    OF   THE   SUITORS          77 

O'ertaking  a  deer. 
At  the  sound  of  her  feet, 
Or  her  lips '  low  laughter, 
He  glanceth  back, 
Then,  onward  pounding, 
Though  still  breathing  hard, 
He  speedeth  his  pace, 
Running  by  will-power  sheer. 

MAIDENS 

Eia!    we  cheer 

The  heart  that  ne'er  faileth  for  fear. 

EURYNOME 

Now  the  man  hath  she  passed, 

The  maiden  swift, 

With  eyes  on  the  goal; 

But,  upraising  his  hand, 

Doth  Hippomenes  cast 

A  Paphian  gift: 

Gleaming  an  apple  doth  roll 

Before  her  along  the  white  strand, 

Till  aside  from  the  course  it  doth  lie. 


MAIDENS 

Oa,  ouai! 

Fain  would  we  the  act  understand: 
He  letteth  a  fair  apple  fly 
Before  her  to  bound  on  the  sand; 
Eurynome,  pray  tell  us  why? 


78  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

EURYNOME 

The  maiden  observeth 
The  tempting  sight, 
And  in  her  heart  leapeth 
Desire  uncontrolled. 
A  quick  turn  making, 
Her  stride  she  swerveth 
Toward  the  sphere  bright; 
In  her  hand  she  upsweepeth 
The  apple  of  gold, 
With  joy  the  gift  taking 
As  a  prize  for  her  might, 
Before  her  by  Artemis  rolled. 

MAIDENS 

lau,  iavoi! 

She  taketh  with  joy 

As  a  gift  from  above 

The  apple  of  love 

That  too  oft  doth  a  maiden  destroy. 

EURYNOME 

The  apple  hiding 

Her  girdle  within, 

To  the  course  she  returneth ; 

Though  far  in  the  lead 

Is  Hippomenes  striding, 

Yet  trust  still  to  win 

In  her  heart  high  burneth ; 

She  reneweth  her  speed. 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE    SUITORS          79 

MAIDENS 

Maiden,  have  heed! 

Atalanta,  take  care! 

The  passion  of  greed 

Is  the  high  gods'  gin 

Wherein  they  ensnare 

Souls  that  by  pride  have  been  led  into  sin. 

Victory 's   meed 

We  wish  now  thy  rival  to  wear. 

EURYNOME 

The  maiden,  urging 

Her  strength  to  the  strain, 

Her  hot  blood  surging 

Through  every  vein, 

With  quickening  stride 

In  burst  of  speed 

The  man  hath  o  'er  taken, 

And  side  by  side 

They  fight  for  the  lead. 

Now  off  he  is  shaken! 

Once  more 

She  forgeth  her  rival  before. 

The  goal  they  draw  nigh  — 

MAIDENS 

Oa,  ouai! 
In  sorrow  we  cry, 
Hippomenes  vanquished 
To  victory  nigh! 


80  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

EURYNOME 

Nay,  get  for  him  bays, 
Palm  branches  bring. 

Adraste  goes  out. 

Once  more  his  hand  doth  he  raise, 

And  hurleth,  like  stone  from  a  sling, 

In  front  of  the  maiden  fleet 

The  apple  of  gold 

That  still  he  doth  hold; 

It  boundeth  along  at  her  feet. 

The  contestants  enter  the  scene  from  the  right, 
Dymas  running  in  front,  with  the  apple  bounding 
along  by  her  side. 

Again  desire, 

Passion  impure, 

Her  heart  doth  fire, 

The  apple  to  catch 

At  her  feet  that  doth  roll. 

The  golden  lure 

She  stoopeth  to  snatch  — 

And  Hippomenes  crosseth  the  goal! 

The  contestants  take  the  position  of  Atalanta  and 
Hippomenes  in  Poynter's  painting  of  the  race.  In 
the  meantime  Adraste  has  returned  with  palm-leaves 
and  laurels,  which  she  distributes  to  the  Maidens. 
Waving  the  palm  leaves  they  cry : 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE    SUITORS          81 

MAIDENS 

lo,   evoi! 

We  shout  in  our  joy, 

Hippomenes  winneth  the  race! 

Yet  we  cry  eleleu! 

For  our  champion  too   — 

Our  sex  hath  not  suffered  disgrace, 

So  let  both  in  the  victory  share. 

With  wreath  of  bay 

His  head  we  adorn, 

And  to  Cypris  we  pray 

That  the  apples,  borne 

In  the  bosom  fair 

Of  the  maiden  chaste, 

True  Love  shall  inspire 

Till  Greed's   desire 

And  the  passion  of  Pride  are  effaced. 

Telemachus  and  Dymas  kneel  before  the  altar,  the 
latter  placing  the  apples  in  her  bosom.  Eurynome 
crowns  Telemachus  with  a  wreath  of  laurel.  The 
Maidens  then  in  pantomime  invoke  Aphrodite. 

SONG 

ODE  TO  APHRODITE 
By  Sappho 

PERSE 

Throned  in  splendor,  immortal  one,  and  mighty 
Daughter  of  Zeus,  wile-weaving  Aphrodite, 


82  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

Let  not  thy  wrath  with  terror's  pangs  affray  me, 
Nor  weariness  o'erweigh  me. 

Come  to  me  now,  if  ever  in  the  olden 
Days  thou  didst  hearken  afar,  and  from  the  golden 
Halls  of  thy  father  come  with  all  speeding 
Unto  my  pleading. 

Down    through    mid    aether   from    heaven's    highest 

regions, 

Yoking  thy  car,  upborne  by  lovely  legions 
Of  fluttering  sparrows,  clouding  with  their  pinions 
Earth's  broad  dominions, 

Swiftly  thou  earnest,  and,  blessed  one,  with  smiling 
Countenance  immortal  my  heavy  heart  beguiling, 
Askedst  the  cause  of  my  pitiful  condition  - 
Why  my  petition? 

What  most  I  craved  in  brain-bewildered  yearning1? 
Whom  would  I  win,  winsome  in  her  spurning? 
"Who  is  the  maiden,  evilly  requiting 
Fond  love  with  slighting? 

"She  now  who  flies  soon  shall  turn  pursuing, 
Cold  now  to  love,  weary  thee  with  wooing, 
Gifts  that  she  spurned  with  other  gifts  reclaiming 
Unto  her  shaming." 

Come  thus  again;  from  cruel  care  deliver; 
Of  all  that  my  heart  wills  graciously  be  giver  — 
Greatest  of  gifts,  thy  loving  self  and  tender 
To  be  my  defender. 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS          83 

TELEMACHUS 

For  the  heart-cheering  dance,  my  mother  dear, 
I  thank  thee.    May  it  soon  an  omen  prove 

Of  Ithaca  redeemed,  when  song  and  cheer 

Shall  woes  supplant,  and  strife  shall  end  in  love. 

But  now  dismiss  the  maids  for  play  more  bold, 

For  with  thee  would  I  secret  converse  hold 

On  martial  themes. 

PENELOPE 

Go  then,  Eurynome, 

And  fit  thy  maidens  for  a  sterner  dance; 
The  Battle  of  the  Bowmen  would  we  see; 
Let  them  as  archers  to  the  fray  advance, 
Preparing  us  for  contest  grim  and  great 
That  now  I  plainly  see  shall  save  the  state. 

Exit  Eurynome  and  Maidens. 

Now  that  none  other  may  our  secret  share 
That  in  thine  eyes  already  cries  aloud, 

The  message  of  thy  swelling  heart  declare 
To  me,  the  gladdest  of  all  mothers  proud. 

Joy  conquers  pain  as  when  thy  life  began; 

Again  I  cry,  "I  have  brought  forth  a  man!" 
Penelope  hands  the  spear  to  Telemachus. 

TELEMACHUS 

In  the  early  watch  of  yester  night  there  came 
To  me,  as  bound  in  slumber  deep  I  lay, 


84  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

Athene,  in  her  battle-garb  aflame, 

And  bade  me  instant  rise,  and  take  my  way 
To  the  house  of  our  good  keeper  of  the  swine, 
Eumaeus.    I  obeyed  the  dream  divine, 

And  sought  the  hut  with  mingled  hope  and  dread 
Which  soon  were  tinged  with  sadness,  for  I  found 

Before  the  door  old  Argos  lying  dead, 

My  boyhood's  playmate,  Father's  favorite  hound, 

Which  ever  mourned  his  absence.    "Ah,  at  last," 

I  sighed,  * '  for  thee  the  days  of  grief  are  passed. 

* '  Athene,  let  this  prove  an  omen  good, 

That  to  myself  and  mother  it  portend 
My  shamed  state  and  her  long  widowhood 

And  our  joint  sorrow  near  a  welcome  end." 
With  beating  heart  I  softly  tried  the  door 
And  slipped  within,  and  sank  upon  the  floor, 

And  sat  there  breathless  in  the  hovel's  gloom 
Unnoted  by  the  swineherd  or  his  guest, 

The  wanderer  here,  who  stood  within  the  room 
And  told  the  story  of  the  wondrous  quest 

Of  great  Odysseus  through  many  a  land 

To  win  his  home  in  safety  with  his  band, 

Of  which  the  stranger  said  he  was  the  least, 
A  common  archer,  who  had  lost  his  bow 

In  that  great  storm  whose  rage  but  late  has  ceased, 
Which  all  save  him  had  hurled  to  depths  below. 

A  well-wrought  tale,  yet  its  too  perfect  craft 

Wrought  such  fond  hope  within  me  that  I  laughed, 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS          85 

And  at  the  sound  there  turned  to  nie  —  my  sire ! 
Mother,  thou  startest  not ! 

PENELOPE 

My  clever  son, 
Thy  father's  mind  in  thee  I  much  admire 

But  thinkest  thou  thy  heart  could  mine  outrun? 
Nay,  ere  thou  didst  him  in  the  hut  divine, 
I  knew  his  coming.    Lo,  of  this  the  sign ! 

She  holds  up  the  spear. 

For  ready  to  his  hand  I  brought  this  spear, 

And  with  my  hand  its  point  I  burnished  bright; 

And  bade  my  maids  with  lances  light  appear 
To  raise  our  spirits  to  heroic  height 

So  that  we  might  our  cup  of  courage  pour 

Into  my  lord's  full  soul  that  it  run  o'er. 

Then  from  the  armory  in  stealth  I  brought 
Odysseus'  mail,  that,  donned  in  youthful  pride, 

He  wore  what  time  my  father's  court  he  sought 
And  wooed  and  won  me  as  a  willing  bride  — 

Cuirass  and  greaves  and  helm,  with  cunning  made 

Of  brass  and  gold  —  and  in  my  chamber  laid 

The  rich  array,  and  burnished  bright  its  sheen ; 

With  them  I  set  his  great  bow,  waxen  well, 
And  quiver  of  long  arrows,  true  and  keen, 

And  newly  fledged  for  their  mission  fell. 
To  none  till  now,  save  Eurycleia  old, 
Leal  and  discreet,  have  I  my  purpose  told. 


86  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

TELEMACHUS 

Athene,  patron  goddess  of  our  line, 

Hath  surely  granted  thee  her  prescient  grace, 

Since  all  thine  actions  with  the  deep  design 
Of  wise  Odysseus  have  run  apace, 

For  he  hath  fixed  his  mind  this  very  day 

With  bow  and  spear  the  suitor  band  to  slay. 

E'en  now  the  temper  of  their  souls  we  tried, 
And  found  them  evil  all,  save  Phemius  blind. 

Odysseus,  with  Eumaeus  as  his  guide, 

Came  to  the  feast  that  he  perchance  might  find 

Pity  that  oft  in  rudest  breasts  hath  room, 

And  so  might  save  the  kindly  hearts  from  doom. 

I  went  before,  and,  when  within  the  hall 

There  limped  the  beggar  by  the  swineherd  led, 

Braving  the  wrath  my  princely  actions  call 
From  the  proud  suitors  on  my  youthful  head, 

I  prayed  them  grant  the  needy  stranger's  right, 

And  bade  him  beg  from  each  a  portion  slight. 

And,  as  from  bench  to  bench  Odysseus  passed 
With  humble  mien  among  that  evil  crew, 

Antinoiis  at  his  head  an  ox-hoof  cast, 

Saying  in  jest,  "There,  stranger,  take  thy  due." 

Lightly  Odysseus  from  it  leaped  aside, 

And,  "Thee  I  shall  repay  the  first/'  replied; 

Whereat  with  rage  the  hall  grew  clamorous ; 
Above  the  din  Eurymachus'  voice  I  caught; 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS          87 

'•' Despicable  beggar,  wouldst  thou  threaten  us? 

By  whom  wast  thou  to  bait  us  hither  brought? — 
Telemachus ? "    "Nay,  from  his  sire  I  come 
To  taste  the  welcome  men  who  stayed  at  home 

"Give  to  the  heroes  who  return  from  war/' 
My  sire  replied:    whereat  the  giant  wode 

Hurled  at  his  head  a  mighty  earthen  jar, 

Which  burst  against  the  wall.    The  red  wine  flowed 

In  pools  upon  the  floor.    ' '  A  guilty  sign, 

Eurymachus;  thy  blood  shall  flow  like  wine." 

Then  to  my  father's  side  I  quickly  flew; 

Odysseus  upraised  his  godlike  form 
To  its  full  height,  and  back  the  suitors  drew 

Behind  the  benches,  whence  they  sent  a  storm 
Of  bones  and  joints,  with  wine-jars  in  their  train; 
' '  You  shower  on  us  meat  and  drink  like  rain, ' ' 

Odysseus  cried,  "and,  in  your  courtesy 

Your  places  at  the  table  giving  o'er, 
Would  burden  us  with  hospitality; 

Such  generous  hosts  I  have  not  met  before. 
Prince,  let  us  hence,  that  we  may  counsel  take 
For  this  great  kindness  fit  return  to  make. ' ' 

So  from  the  Banquet  Hall  into  this  court 
We  backward  drew  with  faces  to  the  foe 

Resolved  to  repay  their  savage  sport 
With  mortal  vengeance  of  the  spear  and  bow. 

So  let  thy  maids  in  martial  rank  advance 

To  spur  my  spirit  with  the  bowman 's  dance. 


88  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

Penelope  claps  her  hands.  Enter  Eurynome  and 
Maidens,  the  former  bearing  a  lance  with  a  red  pennon, 
and  the  latter  small  bows  and  dainty  quivers  filled 
with  little  arrows.  The  Maidens  are  in  boyish  costume. 


CHORUS 
THE  ARCHERS 

EURYNOME 

Warriors  maiden 
In  mimic  marches 
We  move  to  the  battle 
With  shout  of  joy. 

MAIDENS 

Evoi!  evoi! 

EURYNOME 

Our  hands  are  laden 
With  tiny  arches; 
Our  gay  quivers  rattle 
With  arrows  toy. 

MAIDENS 

Evoi!  evoi! 

The  weapons  men  bear 
With  labor  and  care 
In  sport  we  employ. 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS          89 

EURYNOME 

As  children  enhancing 

Life's  vigor  with  play,  • 

With  shouting  and  dancing, 

In  battle  array 

Retreating,  advancing, 

We  figure  the  fray 

Of  our  archers  at  Troy. 


MAIDENS 

Evoi!  evoi! 

Let  us  mock  the  fierce  fray 

Of  the  bowmen  at  Troy, 

Awaiting  the  day 

When  the  world  shall  be  mended, 

And  men,  their  strife  ended, 

Shall  join  with  the  children  in  play. 

Evoi! 


Enter  Eurycleia. 


EURYCLEIA 


Eurynome,  I  bid  thee  cease  the  dance. 

She  addresses  Penelope. 

By  higher  power  than  thine,  my  mistress  dear, 
I  charge  thee  stop  this  play,    Let  the  light  lance 

Vail  its  bright  pennon  to  the  mighty  spear, 
The  girlish  arch  to  warrior 's  bow  give  place; 
Know,  maidens,  I  have  seen  him,  face  to  face! 


90  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

By  emotive  gestures  and  ejaculations  Eurynome  and 
the  Maidens  express  questioning  wonder,  and  Penelope 
and  Telemachus  similarly  show  consternation  at  what 
may  be  a  premature  disclosure  of  the  return  of 
Odysseus.  Eurycleia  addresses  mother  and  son : 

Well  wot  ye  whom  I  mean.    When  I  disclose 
To  all  these  eager  ears  the  secret  sweet 

Which  close  you  guard  against  our  crafty  foes, 
Fear  not;  I  know  the  maidens  are  discreet 

Nor  will  betray  the  tidings  of  great  joy 

I  bring.    Know  that  the  man  returned  from  Troy  — 

Is  even  Odysseus,  our  beloved  lord ! 

Eurynome  and  the  Maidens  silently  express  in 
emotive  gestures  and  expression  their  joy  at  the  reve 
lation,  mingled,  however,  with  incredulity. 

Upon  his  knee  I  have  beheld  the  scar 
Made  by  the  wild  boar's  tusk,  so  deeply  gored 

In  his  young  flesh  that  it  remains  to  mar 
His  manly  form  which  else  were  blemishless  — 
A  blot  that  once  I  mourned,  but  now  I  bless. 

Again  my  master's  limbs  I  have  arrayed 
In  armor  of  his  youth,  whose  princely  sheen 

Gleams  bright  as  when  he  donned  it  first,  the  maid 
Of  Sparta's  court  to  woo  and  win  as  queen, 

Penelope,  then  fair  as  Helen  famed  — 

For  virtue  now  above  all  women  named. 


SLAUGHTER   OF  THE   SUITORS          91 

Within  his  hand  I  placed  the  mighty  bow 
Which  to  his  yearning  youth  a  traveller  gave 

In  pledge  of  common  spirit.    Long  ago 
The  giver  met  his  doom  —  Iphitus  brave, 

Whom  Heracles  his  host  in  envy  slew 

For  deeds  that  he  had  done  and  yet  might  do. 

And  so  Odysseus,  when  he  went  to  Troy, 
Laid  by  the  weapon  as  a  sacred  thing, 

Memorial  of  sadness  mixt  with  joy  — 

That  deathless  love  which  death  alone  can  bring  — 

And  on  his  back  I  girt  with  leathern  thong 

A  quiver  full  of  arrows,  keen  and  long. 

Then  over  all  his  beggar's  cloak  I  threw  — 

The  shining  mail,  the  arrows  winged  with  death  — 
Lo,  here  he  comes. 

Enter  Odysseus,  still  enveloped  in  the  beggar's 
cloak. 

Hail  him,  ye  maidens  true, 
But  only  with  glad  eyes  and  bated  breath, 
Dear  lord,  we  bend  obedient  to  thy  will 
Like  bows  that  with  the  archer's  purpose  thrill. 

All  bow  before  Odysseus  who  takes  his  place  in  the 
center  upon  the  steps  with  Penelope  and  Telemachus 
on  either  side. 

A.y,  and  as  weapons  tried  and  true  impart 
Sense  of  sure  mastery  to  the  wielding  hand, 


92  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

We  shall  return  the  impulse  to  thy  heart, 

And  guide  thine  arm  to  do  thy  will's  command. 
Dip,  then,  thy  shafts  in  venom  of  our  hate, 
And  each  shall  fly  to  its  doomed  target  straight. 

CHORUS 
THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  Bow 

EURYCLEIA 

Hermes,  lover 

Of  wastrels  winning, 

Scamps  big  and  little, 

Patron  smiling 

Of  cunning  and  craft, 

To  us  discover 

The  bow's  beginning, 

What  herd-boy  with  whittle 

His  idlesse  whiling 

First  formed  arch  and  shaft. 

MAIDENS 

What  godhead,  man  ever  beguiling, 
Looked  down  on  the  mischief  and  laughed. 

EURYCLEIA 

Of  a  fir  bough  he  formed 
The  supple  arch; 
A  reed  of  the  mere 
The  arrow  afforded; 
Cedar  bark  did  he  twist 
For  the  cord  of  his  bow. 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS          93 

That  men  with  it  armed 
To  battle  would  march 
Against  the  dread  spear 
Unshielded,  unsworded, 
The  boy  never  wist, 
E'en  the  gods  did  not  know. 

MAIDENS 

To  the  engine  of  war 

That  strikes  from  afar, 

By  Hermes  designed, 

Only  contempt  was  accorded. 

By  none  save  him, 

Not  Ares  grim 

Nor  Athene  the  wise, 

Was  the  war-bow  divined 

That  out  of  the  plaything  should  rise 

Till  over  all  weapons  it  lorded. 

EURYCLEIA 

Long  as  a  child 

Its  kindred  among, 

The  war-spear  bright 

And  lance  arm-flung, 

The  bow  remained. 

By  death  undefiled, 

By  blood  unstained, 

For  play  alone  was  it  strung. 

Yet  the  play  was  to  fight, 

To  conquer,  to  kill!  — 


94  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

The  passion  of  man,  old  and  young, 
For  power  is  ever  his  will. 

MAIDENS 

To  slay,  to  spill 

Blood,  to  destroy 

Life,  is  man's  joy. 

His  pastime  still 

As  it  was  when  a  boy, 

And  shall  be  until 

The  spirit  of  woman 

His  heart  shall  illumine 

And  drive  from  its  lair 

The  beast  that  lurks  there, 

And  render  our  race  wholly  human. 

EURYCLEIA 

The  small  bird  singing 
On  the  bough  swinging, 
The  lizard  sunning 
His  length  on  the  wall; 
These  were  the  lad's  quarry, 
Now  crouching,  now  running 
Creeping  and  gliding 
Through  grasses  tall 
His  movements  hiding, 
He  made  his  foray. 

MAIDENS 

Let  us  mimic  in  dance 
The  childish  play: 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS          95 

The  stealthy  advance 

Of  the  boy  with  the  bow 

And  blunt-headed  arrow 

Stalking  his  prey 

That  feared  not  the  foe  — 

The  lizard  lithe  and  the  sparrow. 

EURYCLEIA 

From  the  dart  weakly  sped, 

The  quick  lizard  glided 

A  cranny  within. 

Away  the  bird  flew 

And,  singing,  derided 

The  weapon  new. 

The  boy  hung  his  head; 

Deep  was  his  chagrin 

That  the  pert  sparrow  laughed 

In  scorn  at  the  craft 

On  which  himself  he  had  prided. 

MAIDENS 

Boy-like,  the  blame 

He  casts  for  the  shame 

On  the  bow  in  whose  strength  he  confided. 

EURYCLEIA 

With  head  elate 

And  forkt  tongue  hissing 

Inveterate  hate 

At  our  heeled  race, 


96  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

A  coiled  snake, 

In  the  roadside  dust 

Invited  attack. 

With  fear  aquake 

The  boy  drew  back 

A  stride's  short  space; 

Then  into  his  heart 

Came  courage,  new  trust 

In  his  weapon's  strength; 

And,  fitting  a  dart, 

He  drew  to  its  length 

The  bow,  and  shot  without  missing! 

MAIDENS 

With  clubbed  bow 

He  kills  the  stunned  foe, 

And  home  bears  the  coil 

As  a  warrior's  spoil 

To  his  mother  dear, 

Who  shudders  in  fear, 

Yet  still  rewards  him  with  kissing. 

EURYCLEIA 

What  deity  dread 
The  daring  deed 
Of  the  lad  inspired? 
What  godhead  fired 
With  courage  his  heart, 
His  weak  arm  nerving 
To  send  unswerving 
The  feeble  dart 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS          97 

At  the  serpent's  head? 

From  his  seat  of  splendor 

The  god  of  the  sun, 

Hyperion, 

Of  man  defender, 

Looked  down  and  took  heed. 

He  saw  within 

The  heart  of  the  boy 

Man's  spirit  defending 

With  primal  joy 

The  Race  from  its  foe, 

The  serpent's  seed, 

The  symbol  of  Sin  - 

A  contest  portending, 

The  struggle  with  Wrong; 

And  to  the  lad  lending 

The  will  to  win, 

His  arm  he  made  strong. 

MAIDENS 

Apollo,  the  glorious 

Spirit  of  light, 

Sent  him  victorious 

Home  from  the  fight, 

Presaging  the  triumph  of  Right. 

ODYSSEUS 

Thanks,  Eurycleia,  for  the  simple  tale 

That  thou  wast  wont  to  tell  me  when,  a  boy, 

I  leaned  against  thy  knee,  and  grew,  now  pale 

When  hissed  the  serpent,  and  now  flushed  with  joy 


98  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

When  he  lay  writhing.    Proud  was  I  to  know 
A  boy  like  me  had  made  the  primal  bow. 

But  late  I  heard  the  legend  in  new  guise 
Perhaps  more  pleasing  to  a  maiden's  mind, 

For  to  romance  the  girlish  fancy  flies 

When  childhood's  wonderland  is  left  behind; 

Her  heart  is  by  a  hero  never  won 

If  he  come  not  in  splendor  of  the  sun. 

While  in  Aleinoiis'  court  I  was  a  guest 

Thither  there  came  a  wandering  minstrel.     Young 

And  godlike  fair  he  was,  with  youthful  zest 
For  bold  adventure.     Enviously  he  sung 

Heroic  deeds,  to  which  his  soul  inclined 

Alas!  in  vain  —  the  gods  had  made  him  blind. 

With  meaner  envy  was  my  bosom  stirred, 

With  jealousy  I  own  it  to  my  shame, 
For  all  had  hung  upon  my  slightest  word  — 

Matron  and  maiden  —  ere  the  minstrel  came 
To  win  them  from  me  with  his  magic  song. 
From  morn  till  eve  about  me  would  they  throng 

To  hear  such  stories  as  a  warrior  rude, 
A  plain,  sea-faring  man,  could  baldly  tell 

Of  his  adventures  strange  by  field  and  flood, 
True  tales,  pardie,  since  all  do  know  full  well 

Marvels  a  many  must  the  sailor  meet: 

Harpies  with  women's  breasts  and  taloned  feet, 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS          99 

Gorgons  whom  hissing  serpents  serve  for  hair, 
Witches  whose  potions  make  of  man  a  beast, 

Fish-tailed  sirens  that  with  song  ensnare 

The  passing  seamen  on  whose  flesh  they  feast, 

Grim  giants,  grislier  made  by  one  lone  eye: 

Wonders  too  great  for  the  enlarging  lie. 

But  he,  this  boyish  bard  they  call  "the  Blind," 
Made  all  these  marvels  seem  but  fancies  fond 

Matched  with  the  wondrous  visions  in  his  mind; 
His  soul's  eye  pierced  into  the  world  beyond 

The  senses'  ken,  and,  daring,  did  he  tell 

Secrets  of  highest  heaven  and  deepest  hell. 

The  gods,  I  think,  for  this  presumption  bold 
Blasted  his  body's  sight,  since  even  they 

The  prescience  of  the  soul  may  not  withhold ; 
So  to  appease  their  wrath  he  made  essay 

By  flattering  them  most  grossly  in  his  song, 

Doing  in  this  to  mortals  grievous  wrong. 

Athene,  bear  me  witness  that  whate  'er 

Of  craft  and  courage  lies  within  my  heart 

To  impute  to  thee  has  ever  been  my  care; 
Yet  in  my  deeds  I  claim  the  doer's  part. 

But  to  the  gods  the  fawning  poet  tribe 

Both  mortal  act  and  impulse  must  ascribe. 

Myself  and  all  my  fellow  warriors  brave 

This  cozening  bard  with  seeming  praise  maligned, 

Since  the  whole  credit  for  our  deeds  he  gave 
To  gods  unseen  save  by  his  subtle  mind. 


100  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

'Twas  they  who  aimed  the  Achaean  hero's  blow, 
And  snatched  the  Trojan  coward  from  the  foe. 

So,  too,  the  nameless  heroes  of  our  race 

Whose  thought  and  toil  its  ancient  triumphs  won, 

With  gods  and  demigods  he  did  replace: 
Prometheus  stole  fire  from  the  sun ; 

Bacchus  taught  men  with  wine  their  thirst  to  slake; 

Apollo  with  the  bow  first  quelled  the  snake. 

This  deed  of  Phoebus  that  the  poet  sang 

Had  that  uncanny  charm  the  serpent  wields; 

The  women,  thrilled  with  the  ecstatic  pang 
Of  terror  which  the  sense  of  danger  yields, 

Would  flee  like  birds,  then  flutter  back  again. 

Would  you,  too,  taste  the  sweetness  of  its  pain? 

MAIDENS 

We  fear,  yet  are  fain 

The  legend  to  hear 

Of  the  foe  of  our  race, 

The  serpent,  slain 

By  Phoebus  Apollo, 

To  maidens  dear 

For  beauty  and  grace. 

Like  the  cliff  swallow 

Who  findeth  a  snake 

Coiled  in  her  nest 's  hollow 

Our  hearts  are  aquake; 

We  tremble,  and  yet  we  would  follow 

Each  movement  the  Python  may  make. 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS  ;     JQJ 

RECITATION 

THE  SLAYING  OF  THE  PYTHON 

From  Ovid 

ODYSSEUS 

When  passed  the  Age  of  Gold,  that  knew  not  gold 
Save  in  the  flowery  mintage  of  the  mead, 

The  honey  dripping  from  the  oak-tree  old, 

The  grain  that  ripened  from  the  self-sown  seed; 

After  the  Age  of  Silver,  too,  had  flown, 

When  gains  were  reckoned  in  earth 's  fruits  alone; 

There  came  the  Ages  of  the  metals  base, 

Gross  Brass  and  grosser  Iron,  which  men  wrought 

To  war's  fell  use,  and  evil  grew  apace; 

For  land  and  goods  brother  with  brother  fought, 

And  all  the  earth  was  drenched  with  blood  and  tears, 

So  that  the  high  gods  fled  to  kindlier  spheres. 

Then  Zeus  was  wroth,  and  in  his  righteous  ire 
He  sent  a  flood  to  drown  the  evil  brood; 

All  were  o'erwhelmed,  save  him,  our  race's  sire, 
Deucalion  just,  and  Pyrrha,  mother  good, 

Who  dwelt  alone  upon  Parnassus'  height. 

Then,  when  on  earth  the  sun  again  shone  bright, 

Its  god  Apollo  downward  cast  his  eyes, 

And  saw,  engendered  from  the  noisome  slime, 

A  spawn  of  horrid  crawling  monsters  rise, 
Incarnate  forms  of  every  sin  and  crime 


102          THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

That  had  possessed  the  word  ere  it  was  drowned; 
Chief  of  them  all,  that  King  of  Evil  crowned, 

The  serpent  Python,  enemy  of  man. 

Lifting  his  head  against  the  race  redeemed, 
Ay,  against  Zeus,  his  foe  since  time  began, 

His  eyes  with  hideous  fascination  gleamed, 
Drawing  to  their  destruction  with  strange  lure 
The  folk  created  by  our  parents  pure. 

Uprose  great  Phoebus ;  with  one  foot  advanced 
He  grasped  his  bow,  and  hailed  his  arrows  keen 

Upon  the  snake.     Within  the  sun  they  glanced 
Like  beams  that  through  the  rifted  clouds  are  seen; 

Smiting  the  Foe  of  Man  in  his  flat  head, 

Through  every  coil,  they  laid  the  monster  dead. 

While  Odysseus  is  describing  the  killing  of  the 
Python,  Telemachus  instinctively  steps  forward  to  the 
center  of  the  stage,  and  takes  the  pose  of  the  ' ' Apollo 
Belvedere/'  the  while  the  Maidens  by  emotive  gestures 
express  the  fascination  of  horror,  terminated  by  the 
relief  of  joy. 

So,  in  memorial  of  the  mighty  deed 
The  Pythian  festival  the  god  ordained, 

The  contests  keen  of  manly  strength  and  speed 

That  the  Hellenic  youths  have  since  maintained  — 

The  bloodless  strife  which  links  the  hearts  of  men 

In  love,  to  bring  the  Golden  Age  again. 


SLAUGHTER   OF  THE   SUITORS        103 

PANTOMIME 
THE  PYTHIAN  GAMES 

The  Maidens  enact  the  Pythian  Games,  Telemachus 
taking  various  athletic  poses  of  Greek  statuary,  such 
as  the  "Discus  Thrower.'' 

ODYSSEUS 

Forbear  the  games;  the  archer's  dance  resume; 

One  contest  lies  before  us,  ere  in  joy 
We  celebrate  the  evil  Python's  doom. 

Nemesis'  symbol  once  again  employ: 
The  far-flung  arrow  hurtling  on  the  foe. 
Maidens,  enact  the  Vengeance  of  the  Bow. 

Eurynome  and  the  Maidens  take  up  their  bows  and 
arrows,  and  in  pantomime  illustrate  the  action  de 
scribed  by  Odysseus  (who  bears  the  great  bow)  in  his 
following  narrative,  and  express  the  emotions  aroused 
thereby.  In  particular  they  assume  the  poses  of  the 
Niobe  group  of  sculptures. 


For  well  I  know  within  my  mind  and  soul 
The  day  has  come  when  our  fell  foes  shall  fall; 

Smitten  by  Fate,  down  in  the  dust  shall  roll 
Antinotis  fair,  Eurymachus,  yea  all 

The  suitors  proud,  presumptuous  in  their  sin  — 

The  gates  of  Hades  yawn  to  let  them  in 


104          THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

In  bloody  shoals.     So  come,  my  tale  attend, 
And  learn  from  it  that  Nemesis  ne'er  nods: 

The  story  of  the  Theban  queen's  sad  end, 

Slain  mid  her  sons  and  daughters  by  the  gods, 

Latona's  twins,  for  her  unholy  pride. 

Listen  how  Niobe  and  her  children  died. 

RECITATION 

THE  FATE  OF  NIOBE 
From  Meleager  and  Ovid 

ODYSSEUS 

It  was  upon  the  Phoebean  Festival, 

When  all  the  Theban  folk  together  came, 

Each  brow  bedecked  with  leafy  coronal, 

Each  hand  fulfilled  with  incense  for  the  flame 

Upon  the  altar  of  the  Heavenly  Twins, 

To  pray  for  purging  of  the  people 's  sins, 

That  Niobe,  their  beauteous  mother  queen, 
Proud  of  her  stalwart  sons  and  daughters  fair, 

Cried  to  the  crowd:     "What  folly  this,  unseen 
Beings  to  worship,  when  in  beauty  rare, 

Ay,  greater  than  in  sun  and  moon  doth  shine, 

My  children  stand  before  you.     Pay  divine 

"Honors  to  me  then,  who  the  brood  did  bear; 

Sevenfold  am  I  the  goddess  Leto  is, 
For  she  is  mother  to  a  single  pair 

And  fourteen  perfect  children  crown  my  bliss; 


SLAUGHTER   OF  THE   SUITORS        105 

If  I  of  some  by  Fortune  be  bereft 
Greater  than  Leto  shall  I  still  be  left." 

And  so  the  silly  folk  enwreathed  with  bays 
Her  children,  and  to  them  the  incense  burned, 

And  sang  the  hymn  prepared  for  Leto's  praise 
To  Niobe  as  better  by  her  earned, 

Latona,  thus  in  sight  of  mortals  shamed, 

And  of  the  gods,  with  anger  was  inflamed, 

And,  calling  her  children  from  their  seats  afar, 

Apollo,  dazzling  as  his  orb  at  noon, 
Dian,  whose  beauty  pales  the  evening  star, 

She  said,  ' '  I,  who  brought  forth  the  Sun  and  Moon, 
Am  flouted  by  a  mortal  mother.    Go, 
Visit  her  with  the  vengeance  of  the  bow." 

Down  through  the  air  the  heavenly  archers  sped, 
And  on  the  Theban  towers  took  their  place. 

Before  the  gates  a  broad  champaign  there  spread 
Whereon  the  city's  youth  with  skill  and  grace 

Pursued  their  sports,  the  chiefest  of  the  throng 

Niobe 's  princely  sons.     Urging  along 

His  foaming  steeds,  Ismenos,  eldest  born, 
With  mastering  art  his  gilded  chariot  drave; 

Him  the  first  arrow  struck.    With  cry  forlorn 
From  out  the  car  he  fell,  yet  still  he  clave 

Unto  the  reins.     The  steeds  with  maddened  bound 

His  lifeless  body  dragged  along  the  ground. 


106          THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

His  brother,  then,  as  strong  and  fair  of  form, 
The  next  in  birth,  hearing  the  bow-twang  loud, 

As  when  a  boatman  sees  the  gathering  storm, 
And  all  his  sails  to  make  the  port  doth  crowd, 

Gave  his  steeds  rein  the  winged  death  to  escape. 

Him  the  next  arrow  on  his  neck's  fair  nape 

Struck  and  felled  prone.     Two  sons   (but  lads  they 
were) 

Wrestled  upon  the  green  with  limbs  locked  fast; 
One  arrow  pierced  them  through  their  bodies  fair; 

One  cry  they  gave,  together  breathed  their  last. 
Two  elder  brothers,  hastening  to  their  side, 
By  arrows  twain  o'ertaken  fell  and  died. 

Remained  of  all  the  brothers  one  alone; 

Lifting  his  supplicating  hands  to  heaven, 
Witless  whose  hand  the  deadly  shafts  had  thrown, 

* '  Spare  me,  ye  gods ! "  he  cried.     Last  of  the  seven, 
Him  Phoebus  would  have  saved,  but  ah,  the  dart 
Had  left  the  bow;  it  pierced  him  to  the  heart. 

The  other  youths  fled  to  the  town  aghast 
And  to  the  queen  the  woful  tidings  told. 

Forth  to  the  field  came  Niobe  running  fast, 
And  when  she  saw  her  dear  sons'  corses  cold 

She  knelt  and  kissed  them  o  'er  and  o  'er  again. 

And  yet  her  spirit,  proud  for  all  her  pain, 

Defiance  breathed  against  the  goddess  high 

Who  well  she  wist  had  wrought  the  bloody  deed. 
" Gloat,  cruel  Latona,  o'er  mine  agony, 


SLAUGHTER   OF  THE   SUITORS        107 

And  full  your  rage  upon  mine  anguish  feed, 
But  yet  recall,  when  to  their  graves  I  follow 
My  seven  sons,  thou  hast  but  thine  Apollo 

"And  Artemis,  while  seven  daughters  still 
Remain  of  the  fair  children  that  I  bore. 

Lo,  here  they  come.    Exult,  then,  an  thou  will, 
Richer  am  I  than  thou,  my  conqueror ! ' ' 

Boldly  she  spoke,  for  her  excess  of  grief 

In  her  old  wont  of  boasting  found  relief. 

Then,  as  the  sisters  ran  with  piteous  cries 
Upon  the  field,  and  bent  with  woful  mien 

Over  their  brothers  dead,  down  from  the  skies 
There  rained  another  storm  of  arrows  keen, 

Which  slew  the  mourning  maidens  where  they  stood, 

Mingling  their  own  with  their  dear  brothers'  blood. 

One  girl  sank  on  the  corse  which  she  bewailed; 

One  died,  her  mother  seeking  to  console; 
One  turned  to  flee,  and  was  by  death  assailed; 

One  hid  in  vain  beneath  her  ample  stole; 
A  fifth  faced  shuddering  the  coming  blow; 
A  sixth  in  utter  terror  crouched  low; 

The  last  the  mother  sheltered  with  her  form, 
1 '  Spare  me  but  one,  my  youngest, ' '  Niobe  cried ; 

But  even  as  she  spake  the  heart-blood  warm 
Gushed  o'er  her  bosom  from  the  daughter's  side. 

Then  stirless,  speechless,  with  her  dead  alone 

She  stood,  till  grief  transformed  her  into  stone. 
*     *     #     *     « 

A  time  there  was  for  dancing;  it  has  passed. 


108          THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

A  time  for  ancient  legends;  it  is  gone. 
The  hour  for  action  stern  has  struck  at  last; 

The  day  of  duty  now  is  at  its  dawn. 
Come,  son,  and  learn  with«me  what  mighty  odds 
They  have  who  fight  with  favor  of  the  gods. 

Odysseus  and  Telemachus  descend  the  steps  of  the 
palace,  and  stand  in  an  attitude  of  worship  before 
the  altar. 

INVOCATION 

THE  PRAYER  TO  THE  GODS 

ODYSSEUS 

Apollo,  first  I  pay  thee  honors  due; 

Long  have  I  felt  thine  enmity  divine, 
And  to  the  end  my  error  shall  I  rue, 

My  comrades7  slaughter  of  thy  sacred  kine. 
I  know  thou  wilt  forgive  the  old  offence 
And  grant  me  power  to  prove  my  penitence, 

For  on  a  mission  like  thine  own  we  go 
To  slay  the  Python  in  our  halls  that  lies; 

And  so  to  thee  I  dedicate  my  bow; 

Grant  that  it  prove  a  pleasing  sacrifice. 

To  thee  this  quiver,  gracious  Artemis, 

Its  darts,  like  thine,  devote  to  Nemesis. 

Poseidon,  take  for  thine  this  toil-worn  frame, 
For  oft  hath  it  been  wreckage  of  the  sea ; 

Granting  it  power  first  to  cleanse  the  shame 
That  blots  my  palace  —  then  I  give  it  thee, 


SLAUGHTER   OF  THE   SUITORS        109 

And  I  shall  go  beyond  the  Ocean's  end 
To  do  thy  bidding,  and  my  sin  amend. 

Athene,  patron  dear,  my  mind  and  heart 
To  thee  devoted  were  in  days  of  old; 

Grant  me  no  favors;  I  shall  play  my  part; 
But  to  my  son  lend  thou  thy  spirit  bold, 

Thy  wisdom  great.    Let  his  be  honor  higher 

Than  mine  —  the  son  be  hailed  above  the  sire. 

Odysseus  and  Telemachus  ascend  the  steps.  They 
embrace  Penelope.  Odysseus  suddenly  kicks  and 
thrusts  open  the  valved  door  leading  into  the  Banquet 
Mall,  and  then,  throwing  off  his  cloak  and  drawing  his 
bow,  followed  by  Telemachus  pointing  forward  his 
spear,  he  rushes  within.  During  the  ensuing  scene  a 
great  tumult  arises,  with  mingled  shouts  of  anger, 
contempt  and  dismay.  Penelope,  standing  on  the  steps 
and  looking  through  the  doors,  reports  to  the  Maidens 
the  scene  within  the  Banquet  Hall,  the  Maidens  ex 
pressing  in  pantomime  their  emotions. 

CHORUS 

THE  SLAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUITORS 
PENELOPE 

In   shining   mail 

That  his  cloak  had  concealed, 

Our  lord  standeth  grim, 

A  god  in  seeming, 

Apollo  divine! 


110  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

The  suitors  quail; 
At  their  foe  revealed ; 
Their  senses  swim; 
Each  stareth,  as  dreaming, 
Overcome  with  wine. 

MAIDENS 

Io,  eleleu! 

On  the  startled  view 

Of  the  suitors  supine, 

Odysseus,  gleaming 

In  armor,  doth  shine. 

A  deity  dread  are  they  deeming 

The  man  whom  as  beggar  they  knew. 

Eleleu! 

PENELOPE 

Antinoiis  tall 

To  his  lips  hath  uplift 

A  brimming  chalice, 

Twy-eared,  of  gold 

Richly  enwrought. 

He  doth  not  recall 

His  fateful  gift 

To  the  beggar  in  malice, 

Nor  the  answer  bold  — 

Far  from  his  thought 

Is  death,  I  trow. 

MAIDENS 

E'ia,  io! 

The  hoof  of  horn 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS        111 

Hurled  in  scorn, 
Our  lord  shall  requite 
By  right  and  by  might, 
Repaying  the  blow  with  a  blow. 

PENELOPE 

For  who  would  dare, 
Think  they  in  their  pride, 
One  man  'gainst  a  host, 
(What  worth  is  the  youth?) 
Beard  princes  great 
Gathered  at  board? 
For  howsoever 
In  his  cause  he  confide, 
In  his  strength  he  boast, 
Or  courage,  in  sooth 
He  would  meet  black  fate 
On  the  point  of  the  sword! 

MAIDENS 

Oua,  ouai! 

When  a  man  doth  defy 

Singly  a  horde 

Too  oft  doth  he  meet 

With  mortal  defeat; 

Zeus,  save  from  this  fate  our  dear  lord! 

PENELOPE 

Our  lord  letteth  drive 
A  bitter  shaft 


112  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

From  his  bow  good 
At  Antinoiis  smiling 
With  high-raised  head. 
His  throat  it  doth  rive, 
And  the  wine  he  hath  quaffed 
Spurteth  out  with  the  blood, 
The  food  defiling 
On  the  table  outspread. 

MAIDENS 

The  dart  his  neck  smiteth 

As  the  proud  prince  doth  smile; 

The  beggar  requiteth 

The  insult  vile; 

And  the  haughty  lord 

Lieth  dead  on  the  board 

In  the  hall  that  his  deeds  did  defile. 

PENELOPE 

The  wooers  are  raising 
A  cry  of  fear; 
From  their  seats  high 
They  leap  to  their  feet, 
On  each  other  they  call; 
Around  are  they  gazing, 
For  shield  and  spear, 
But  none  do  they  spy  — 
Some  servant  discreet 
Hath  hidden  them  all! 

MAIDENS 
lo,  eleleu! 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS        113 

The  swine-herd  true 
Their  arms  hath  removed 
Out  of  the  hall, 
Lest  to  his  lord  loved 
Harm  should  befall. 

PENELOPE 

Flameth  each  heart 

With  anger  vain. 

In  impotent  fear, 

In  terror  craven, 

Our  lord  they  threaten 

With  utter  doom. 

"Know,  stranger,  thy  dart 

Our  leader  hath  slain, 

A  prince  without  peer. 

For  this  shall  the  raven 

Upon  thy  flesh  batten, 

The  wolf  shall  thy  marrow  consume." 

MAIDENS 

With  confidence  clear 
The  menace  we  hear; 
Word  breaketh  no  bone; 
The  coward  alone 
At  his  foeman  doth  jeer. 

PENELOPE 

Odysseus  high 
Uplifteth  his  head 


114          THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

Clear  his  words  ring: 
"Ye  dogs,  that  did  steal 
The   house   within 
Whose  lord  was  away, 
His  goods  to  waste, 
Know,  then,  it  is  I, 
The  man  ye  thought  dead, 
Ithaca 's  king, 
Returned,  to  deal 
Vengeance:    in  sin 
Your  souls  to  slay. 
Death  ye  shall  taste." 

MAIDENS 

Io,  10 1 

Death  shall  they  know ; 

For  our  slaughtered  kine 

And  our  wasted  wine 

Their  blood  shall  flow. 

lot 

PENELOPE 

The  suitors  turn 

To  Eurymachus  strong 

In  mute  appeal 

To  quell  the  foe. 

With  a  bone  for  his  blade 

At  our  lord  he  leapeth. 

But  Odysseus  stern 

A  shaft,  yard-long, 

Pointed  with  steel, 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS        115 

Speedeth,  and  low 
The  giant  is  laid. 
Death  over  him  creepeth. 

MAIDENS 

lo,  eleleu! 

He  hath  got  his  due; 

The  promise  made 

By  the  beggar  is  paid; 

Sponged  out  is  the  score; 

He  lieth  in  gore; 

Our  lord  his  word  keepeth. 

PENELOPE 

Careless  our  lord  is! 
On  him  unaware 
Amphinomus  stealeth 
With  trencher-knife  bright 
To  strike  from  the  rear. 
But  the  stealthy  step  heard  is 
By  Telemachus  fair. 
Quick  the  lad  wheeleth 
And  the  man  doth  he  smite 
With  bronze-pointed  spear. 

MAIDENS 

lo,  io ! 

Now  plainly  we  know 

The  son  doth  inherit 

The  sire's  own  spirit  — 

'Twas  Pallas  that  guided  the  blow. 


11G  THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

PENELOPE 

In  terror  sore 

Like  rats  in  a  cage 

The  suitors  are  running 

Around  the  wall 

Escape  to  find. 

But  Eumaeus  shrewd 

His  prudence  hath  proved: 

Barred  is  the  door. 

Wild  is  their  rage 

At  the  swineherd's  cunning. 

'Neath  the  tables  they  crawl, 

The  benches  behind. 

Only  Phemius  good 

Sitteth  unmoved, 

No  fear  doth  he  show. 

MAIDENS 

Ao,  ao! 

On   the   minstrel    blind 

Thy   mercy   bestow, 

Odysseus    kind, 

By  him  wert  thou  ever  beloved. 

PENELOPE 

The  blind  bard  sparing, 
His   anger  fierce 
On    the   suitors   wreaking, 
Them   singly   he   smiteth. 
His   arrows   long, 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS        117 

Through   the   wooden   shields   tearing, 

Their  bodies   pierce, 

Their   base   hearts   seeking. 

Thus   he   requiteth 

The  shame  and  the  wrong. 

Blow  hath  he  rendered  for  blow! 

MAIDENS 

lo! 

Our  wrongs   hath   he   righted, 
Our   shame   hath   requited, 
And  given  us   gladness   for  wo. 

PENELOPE 

From    his    high    throne 

The  minstrel  dear 

Riseth ;   with   joy 

His  face  is   agleam; 

His  harp  doth  he  smite, 

List,    maids,    to    its    tone. 

His  song  ringeth   clear: 

Our  lord  come  from  Troy, 

The  land  to  redeem, 

The  reign  restoring  of  Right! 

MAIDENS 

lo,  eleleu! 

The  poet   true, 

In  faith  that  is  stronger  than  sight, 

With  inward  light 


118          THE  RETURN  OF  ODYSSEUS 

The  end  ever  knew. 

Now  let  him  complete 

His  broken  song, 

For  sad  hearts  too  sweet 

In   the   evil   days   long  — 

Return  of  the  Hero  whose  feet 

Shall  trample  the  Serpent  of  Wrong. 

Phemius  emerges  from  within  the  Banquet  Hall, 
and,  standing  on  the  porch,  sings  to  the  accompani 
ment  of  his  harp : 


SONG 

ASTRAEA  REDUX 

PHEMIUS 

Hail,  for  thy  sweet  return 

Dear  Odysseus,  lord! 
Glad  are  the  hearts  that  did  yearn, 

Ended  our  eyes'  weary  ward; 

Sorrow  is  turned  into  joy, 
Darkness  is  lifted  in  light; 

The  years  since  thou  left  us  for  Troy 
Are  passed  as  a  watch  in  the  night, 

A  troubled  dream  ere  the  dawn, 

Yea,  as  a  tale  that  is  told, 
Like  to  a  mist  have  they  gone 

That  morning  has  oceanward  rolled. 


SLAUGHTER   OF   THE   SUITORS        119 

With  peace  let  our  purposes  run, 
With  justice  our  freedom  make  sure, 

And  gladness  that  rose  with  the  sun 
Shall  to  his  setting  endure. 

Odysseus  in  shining  armor  and  Telemachus  emerge 
from  the  Banquet  Hall  upon  the  porch  of  the  palace. 

He  comes  with  Telemachus  brave, 

Victorious  over  our  foe; 
Maidens,  your  palm-branches  wave, 

Odysseus,  oa,  io! 

MAIDENS 

Waving  palm-branches,  and  repeating  the  former 
Dance  of  Triumph. 

Oa,  io! 


CURTAIN 


Miller.ir.MJ 

The   reiurn  of 
Odysseus : 


9'54 
1.1649 


911 


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